Le Commencement Du Diable Blanc
by marshmallow jam
Summary: What if Harry didn't survive the killing curse because of his mother's sacrifice? What if he survived because he was a mutant?
1. Prologue

Not unlike its non-magical counterpart, the wizarding world held great disdain for mutants. Yet unlike the errant fear that muggles felt towards mutants, and the terror that they would usurp hundreds of years of structural government, witches and wizards feared the repercussions that mutants would have on their magic. For thousands of years magic had been the dominant factor of their society, you were either magic, or you weren't. Some of these mutants were muggle and held powers that even the eldest of pureblood families could only dream of. Despite the popular muggle belief that all witches and wizards made deals with devils to get their powers, the magical people were born with their magic. That's not to say that they were not religious. Many muggleborns still practiced the religion that they had been raised in and as such, prejudices from those religions often carried over to the wizarding world.

When Harry had been born and Lily held him in her arms for the first time she had instantly loved him. She swore as soon as she clutched that tiny and completely dependent form to her heart that she would always protect him. James had been overjoyed when he found out that their child was a boy, he had been eager to know during the pregnancy but Lily had convinced him to let it be a surprise, and when he held that tiny form he felt every ounce of responsibility and love that Lily had.  
When their only child opened his eyes for the first time and they caught sight of them, all that love turned to fear. Instead of hazel or green the child's eyes were demonic looking, the sclera was pitch black and his pupils were blood red.

"Oh my god," Whispered Lily as she held the boy at arm's length "Not my baby!" she cried softy

James felt disgusted and immediately after he recognised that feeling he felt utterly ashamed of himself. For a pureblood, James had been raised in a pretty odd environment, his parents teaching him acceptance and loyalty instead of racism and bigotry. Yet even with all the prejudice around he hadn't ever thought himself capable of thinking that way about his own child. But was it so bad that he had thought about what his child would look like? That he had imagine the child to be perfect? Well not perfect, but _normal._ He hated himself at that moment. This was his son! Just because he was different, just because he was a mutant, didn't mean that he was wrong!

"Lily its fine." He promised, although he was unsure whether he was trying to convince his wife or himself.

"It's not fine!" she protested "He's going to be treated so badly!" she cried "Look at how Remus is treated; I can't bear the thought of my son going through the same thing!"

Just then the midwife interrupted them, during the course of the pregnancy she had befriended the couple and offered a solution. "Mrs. Potter, I believe I have a solution."

The couple jumped, only just remembering the other woman's presence. "Mary?"

"You can put a glamour charm on his eyes, it won't hurt him and it will prevent any questions being asked." She replied "I would be happy to perform the charm, and to swear an oath of secrecy, if that is what you would like."

The magic needed to perform a glamour charm wasn't easy but it was not entirely complex either, it took time to perform it well and skill to perform it right. Almost half an hour after agreeing to the spell, Mary Winters sat down in exhaustion, and watched as the little boy looked up at his parents with bright, green eyes, with perfectly normal white sclera. Mary swore never to reveal what had transpired and after checking both Lily and the baby's health she left the Potter's home.

Just eighteen months after the events of Harry James Potter's birth, the newly formed Potter family was destroyed. By placing their trust in the wrong person the young couple died too young.  
Lord Voldemort stared at the lifeless form of the 21 year old muggleborn witch that lay at his feet and smirked before raising his wand to the baby that she had tried so hard to protect.

"No-one shall defeat me, least of all a brat like you." He spat at the child "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

As the green light shot from the yew wand something truly amazing happened, an odd sort of pink glow spread over everything, the child included. The spell was absorbed by the light, and the light continued to spread, engulfing the wizard in its magenta glow. The child's eyes flickered as the light began to pulsate, and as it exploded along with every object it had touched the boy's eyes turned back to their natural red-on-black. The last thoughts that passed through the wizards head before his soul was ripped from his disintegrated body were a jumble of words and emotions, fear being the predominant feeling.

Harry cried as the debris from the explosion made a cut high of his forehead, causing blood to drip down his face. He cried louder when he realised that neither his mother nor his father were heeding his cries. He cried himself to sleep and stayed that way until he awoke to the shrill scream of one, Petunia Dursley as she opened her front door to find him on her doorstep.

_AN- this is my first attempt at a multi-chapter Harry Potter story, and it is also my first X-men fic. I would appreciate it if you could review as I am unsure as to whether I will continue this or not. _


	2. New Orleans

Mr and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.  
Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, a large moustache and almost triple the normal amount of chins. Mrs. Dursley was a tall, thin and blonde woman with twice the amount of normal neck, which, she put to good use craning over the fence to spy on the neighbours.  
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. Dudley was a rather round boy with a mop of blonde hair that really did nothing to endear the boy. Mrs. Dursley always fluttered on about 'mummy's little angel' but to anyone other than a Dursley, Dudley looked like a small pig in a wig or sometimes an oddly coloured beach ball dressed in different bobble hats.

It was November the first when Mrs. Dursley, who had not yet been to bed as she had had to spent most of Halloween night wrestling sweets and chocolate away from Dudley who had put to good use the word that he had learnt (Shan't). Tiredly, she wiped her droopy eyes and opened the door to pick up the milk when she noticed the_ thing_ on her doorstep. It was small and squashy looking, wrapped in a baby-blue fleecy blanket. It _wriggled_ and rolled and as it did a letter dropped out of its pudgy fist. With a shaking hand, Petunia picked up the thick parchment, and in emerald green ink she saw her name written in cursive. She looked up from the letter and down to the baby, the realisation of exactly what it was finally setting in. Petunia screamed. This caused the little boy to wake up. Then Harry started screaming too. When Petunia saw his eyes she let out a garbled '_eep!'_ before promptly feinting in her doorway.

Two years passed swiftly, the young boy growing to look more and more like his father every day, but with a countenance that was so decidedly Lily that Petunia regretted taking her nephew in, every single day. It was a Monday. Petunia loved Mondays. Dudley would be sent to pre-school and Harry to Mrs. Figg's (the woman didn't even ask to be paid to babysit him) and Petunia would have the whole house to herself after Vernon went to work. Despite the rather grizzly day outside, and all of the rain, Vernon Dursley hung up the phone in a flourish and practically skipped over to his wife.

"Wondrous news!" he exclaimed in a haughty manner "My uncle's gone and got himself killed and he's left everything to us!"

Julian Dursley was an odd man, his eccentricities often getting him in to trouble, he had only met Vernon the once and that was enough for Vernon. Despite being Vernon's father's older brother Julian was the most un- Dursley-ish person you could imagine. He had moved to America more than fifteen years ago, and despite his strange tendencies, like keeping forty different goldfish in multi coloured jam jars that he had painted himself, Julian Dursley was- to put it bluntly- filthy rich.

"Even the house?" Petunia asked in a daze

"Even the house!" Vernon exclaimed "with my job as the director of the company, I can continue to manage my jurisdiction from there; we'll be making money on top of the money we inherited! Think about it Pet', Dudley will want for nothing! And you know that the schools here just can't cope with his brilliance!"

"We'll still have to take_ him_ though, Vernon." Petunia muttered

"Pet'" Vernon chastised "with a house as big as the one we're going to be living in, we won't see the boy."

Petunia looked thoughtful for a moment "Where exactly in America is it?"

Vernon grinned widely his moustache stretching comically "New Orleans, Pet'!"

It took three weeks for the Dursleys to pack all of their things and show off about their new-found fortune to their soon-to-be-ex-neighbours, Vernon come to an agreement with his work- he would be doing paperwork from his home-office and he would email the documents to the head office in London.

The plane ride was awful. They had been stuck in business class because of a mix up with the tickets, and Dudley was screaming for sweets and attention. Harry sat quietly in his seat sucking his thumb and scratching the bandage that his aunt had tied around his eyes. Petunia slapped his hand away, gaining a disdainful look from an old woman across the row of seats from her. When the time came for dinner, Dudley wailed and demanded more pudding instead of his mushy peas; Petunia slid over Harry's pudding to Dudley and gave Harry the peas. Harry ate his food quietly and then curled up in his seat. Dudley threw his empty pot of pudding at the air hostess when she calmly told him he couldn't have any more pudding. That earned them a warning about Dudley's behaviour.  
After about five hours, the stewards handed out blankets and pillows. Dudley stole Harry's pillow and stuck it under his own, before flinging his legs out onto his father, and smashing his fat head onto not only his and Harry's pillows but his mothers as well. Harry said nothing- actually he hadn't spoke yet Petunia was beginning to think him mute- he just wrapped the small blanket around him and slept in the seat with his back to Petunia.

Harry was still asleep when they landed in Louis Armstrong airport. They had only brought one rucksack with them as all of their possessions had been shipped over weeks earlier, so Petunia gathered the now sleeping Dudley into her arms and she grabbed Harry's arm and shook him awake sharply.

"Wake up! She snapped and thrust Dudley's teddy bear into his arms "Carry that!" Harry wiped his eyes and pushed himself out of his seat, following Petunia out of the plane. Their car was waiting for them at the airport, just like Vernon had paid for, it took seventeen separate cars honking at them for Vernon to realise that he was on the wrong side of the road.

The house was a part of an old plantation, within the French Quarter of New Orleans, they were disappointed by the fact that the house was not the mansion they were expecting. The outside was painted white and had two balconies; the attic was converted but unpainted and unfurnished. Petunia and Vernon quickly claimed the master bedroom along with its en-suite bathroom, Dudley had loudly proclaimed that he needed two rooms, which his parents were happy to give him; they had set up the remaining bedroom as a guest room, and set up an old camping cot for Harry in the attic. The attic had a small wooden staircase that would fold down she you pulled a string. Petunia had attached another piece of string so that Harry could reach it. What was sad was that it only took Harry one trip to take all of his belongings into his new room while it took the Dursleys nearly two months to unload all of theirs.

It seemed that one of the conditions in the will of the ever-eccentric Julian Dursley was that his housekeeper and gardener were remain under the employ of their family, and if they were not then the Dursley's could not inherit. Vernon had grumbled and moaned but adhered to the clause, after all the gentle and efficient Carlotta Lapin did her job well and cared for the Potter brat so they didn't have too, why should he care if she prattled on and on in French to the boy, it wasn't as if the little mute monstrosity would ever be able to understand her!

One unfortunate thing about the move was that Petunia had to enrol Harry in pre-school as well as Dudley, and from what their teachers told her, Harry was far smarter than Dudley.  
She slapped Harry for the first and last time when she received their teacher's reports in the post. Harry was apparently much smarter than normal, and according to his teacher he was very special. Petunia had never been so angry. It was like Lily and her all over again. Angrily she slapped Harry across the face, seeing only her little sister mocking her in the form of this intelligent boy.

After her hand left an angry red handprint on his face Petunia gasped in horror at what she had done. Harry spoke for the first time. _"Je te déteste, Tante." _

French. The boy spoke French just like the dratted housekeeper, but not English. Out of curiosity Petunia went to a child psychiatrist about Harry. Surprisingly the man spoke both English and French, something that Petunia found quite odd. After a few conversations with the nearly four-year-old Harry he had simply claimed that the people who had talked to him the most were French, so naturally that would be the language that he had picked up on. After looking it up in a French- English dictionary, Petunia realised exactly what the boy had said. _'I hate you, aunt'_. She looked back on the way she treated the boy, could she have done better? Perhaps, but she would never be able to forget her jealousy of her sister, and even though she knew it was wrong she wasn't going to treat the boy any differently. She just was never going to raise her hand to him again.

From the moment they moved all of Harry's needs were seen to my Ms. Carlotta, she put plasters on his cuts, she fed him and clothed him, she made him cookies when the Dursleys weren't looking, she tucked him in at night and sung him lullabies, she gave him the attention he craved and taught him to speak French. He loved speaking the same language as her, it made him feel as if just for one small moment, he truly belonged somewhere.

Harry and Dudley were four years old, and had just started their first year at proper school, Harry was flourishing wonderfully and Dudley was struggling. At school no-one tended to Dudley's every whim like at home; they all called him fat and laughed at him. Dudley decided that if they wouldn't do what he wanted, then he would_ make_ them. It only took beating a few of the smaller kids up for Dudley to gain a reputation as a bully, and soon he had a gang of followers who were too afraid to go against him. Harry was ignored for the most part, because he was good in the lessons, and also because of how strange he was. In Gym class Harry was unnaturally quick and acrobatic; his reaction times were more than twice that of his class mates. Petunia had gone from making Harry wear a bandage around his eyes to simply giving him a pair of opaque sunglasses that completely covered the demonic eyes. One thing that Dudley struggled with most of all was the fact that many of the children at _Ensoleillé Elementary School _were either Cajun, or spoke French. Something that Dudley did not understand.

Harry was sat on his own, waiting for his aunt and uncle to pick Dudley and him up from the school, he ate his apple under the bald cypress tree and made little doodle's in the dirt underneath the tree with a stick he had found, when Dudley and his gang walked, or rather- waddled- in Dudley's case, over to Harry and began to taunt him.  
When Harry did not respond to any of his taunts Dudley quickly became frustrated and started to throw rocks at the younger boy. Harry knew that fighting Dudley would get him into trouble but at this point he didn't care. For as long as he could remember, Dudley had everything he would never have and he hated how spoilt his cousin was. Harry's hands shook in anger and his eyes glowed behind his glasses. He snapped when Dudley loudly proclaimed that Harry's parents had dropped him off with the Dursleys because they had hated Harry and they were glad to be rid of him.

"_Shut your mouth you pig! I'm gonna kick your ass!"_ He spat in that dreaded French, Dudley hated how so many people here spoke it, from the housekeeper to the teachers and even the other students, it was as if they were all a part of some big secret that he wasn't privy to.

Several of the children 'ooooh-ed' and Dudley's cheeks burned when he realised he hadn't understood what had been said. Harry rushed forward with unnatural speed and grace and planted a fist in Dudley's fat face. Harry must have been much stronger than he looked because Dudley's nose had started to bleed. Harry didn't care he spun a kick into Dudley's gut like he had seen someone do on television and Dudley toppled over like a felled tree. Dudley got up surprisingly quickly and swatted Harry with his massive paw, swiping the glasses away from his face, revealing the demonic eyes, Dudley's gang screamed and ran away along with the majority of the spectators leaving only Harry, Dudley, and two boys that neither of them had met before.

"Whoa... I wish I had cool eyes like that!" The smaller of the two exclaimed

The taller swatted the boy "_Shut your mouth you idiot_, Stop starring!"

"You shut up, Etienne!" the small red headed boy snapped back, the two began to bicker with each other until a tall man with auburn hair whistled sharply.

"Emil, Etienne! Botha 'ya shut it!" he snapped his eyes settled on Harry briefly and they widened when he saw the boy's own eyes. "_Mon dieu..."_ he breathed

Dudley interrupted; he had just picked himself up off of the floor (again) and was nursing a bleeding nose.

"Just you wait!" he spat "when Mummy and Daddy find out what you did to me you'll be locked up!"

Harry's eyes seemed to glow redder "Jus' you wait." He spat, shocking Dudley with the use of English, albeit accented English.

"Boy!" a loud and very English voice roared from the other side of the playground.

Along with a shrill cry of; "Diddy-kins!"

Upon seeing the state of their son the Dursleys promptly began yelling at the boy and drug him roughly into the car, next to a smug looking, fat English boy.

"I don' believe it..." the man breathed as he watched the boy go "Le Diable Blanc..."

"Whadd'ya mean, Oncle Jean-Luc?" Etienne asked

AN- I've edited the French in this chapter and I would like to say a big thank you to**knightlygirl** for correcting me! By request I have also added the translations at the bottom of the page.

_Mon dieu- _my god  
_Le diable blanc –_ the white devil  
_Oncle-_ uncle

AN- 10/4/2012- I've edited this chapter so that a few mistakes are changed and I've added a few underlined/italic lines instead of incorrect French, which allowed me to put across what I wanted to say and to be more accurate when doing so. I've also added a minor character in Carlotta Lapin as I realised that when I first added this chapter I had no plausible explanation for Harry to be able to speak French. I had intended to include the French-speaking-housekeeper initially but must have forgotten to. I will be editing other chapters before I write anymore but I haven't abandoned this story.


	3. Remy LeBeau

After the incident at the school Petunia had refused to feed Harry. After two and a half day's Harry was desperate. It was a Tuesday, on Tuesday's shipments of food arrived for the cafeteria, if he was quick enough he would be able to sneak the food out of the almost empty kitchens, which would later be replaced by the new shipment, and no one would know it was him, and no one would miss what he took. Harry waited outside the doors to the cafeteria, and when he was sure the coast was clear he tried to open the doors. They were locked. Thinking quickly, he noticed that the window on top of the door was open. The doorframe of the cafeteria doors was slightly indented, and the door was quite narrow, he jumped as high as he could and put one foot on either side of the doorframe, as well as grabbing it tightly in either fist. He shuffled his way up and pushed his lithe frame through the window, dropping down carefully. He yelped as something heavy fell on him, pinning him to the ground.

"Get off!" he yelped, and scrambled to his feet his eyes landed on the smiling form of the red headed boy from before, Emil.

"_Bonjour!" _Emil said happily "This looks like fun!"

Harry gaped at him before remembering how little time he had; he scrambled around the room and found several apples as well as a few juice boxes. It was better than nothing. He tucked his shirt into his jeans and then put the items down his shirt. He hesitated before offering to share with Emil. They shared the loot equally and Harry gave the smaller boy a boost up to the window, Emil was halfway out and reached out a hand for Harry. Harry jumped up the door using one foot to vault himself higher and grabbed the boy's hand. After they ran away from the kitchens Emil and Harry found themselves under the tree that had quickly become Harry's favourite place.

"Why'd ya' steal the food?" Emil asked "why not look for money or something?"

"'Cause _ma Tante est folle_; she won't give me any food." He replied before crunching on an apple. "No point lookin' for money if I'm too hungry to spend it."

Harry and Emil became friends after their kitchen heist, the two of them becoming inseparable; they were never seen without the other, or Emil's cousin Etienne. Emil and Etienne would share their lunches with Harry when his aunt decided not to feed him, and they would steal apples from the kitchens- just as a game of course.

When Harry was five he tried to run away, he didn't get very far and when he did he realised that he needed much more money to actually leave the Dursleys. Emil and Etienne were so angry at him for trying to leave without telling them goodbye they didn't talk to him for the rest of the week. Whenever he wasn't at school he was with the Dursleys and he hated it, every day after he got home he would dump his bag in his attic and leave the house.  
For the better part of a year Harry had done this every afternoon, he had met a group of boys all around his age and had befriended them. He hadn't told Emil or Etienne because he was afraid how they would react. The boys worked for a man called Fagan, or at least he said that was his name (Harry thought he was just being ironic, after having watched Oliver Twist), and they would pick pockets. Fagan taught them how to steal from people and he would ask for fifty percent of what they stole. So far Harry had fifty dollars, and that was all.

Harry was walking along the street and he spotted a finely dressed man, who was sure to have at the very minimum, twenty or thirty dollars in his wallet. Harry placed himself strategically so that he would have to bump into the man, and rushed forwards, sneaking his hand into the pocket. What he hadn't expected was for the man to grab onto his wrist just as his pinkie finger touched the leather wallet, and have him say:  
"Nice try, garcon." He was smirking "who you t'ink you trying to rob?" he froze when he saw Harry's eyes, and then smiled widely. "Where you live_, garcon_? Your _maman et papa_, home?"

"_Non, ils sont morts_" Harry bit out, the man's hand tightened around his wrist as he tried to pull away "_je vis avec ma Tante_" despite being able to speak English, Harry preferred to speak French, it was something that he could do and Dudley couldn't.

"Well, let's go have a chat wit' 'dem."

The man dragged him all the way to the house and upon seeing both of them petunia screeched "what have you done now, boy?"

"_Rien Madame_, I just want to talk to you about 'de _garcon_."

Petunia turned her hawk gaze to Harry "Boy! Go to your attic!"

Harry didn't know what they had talked about but over the weekend petunia was signing a bunch of papers, and Vernon ad an oddly gleeful look about him.

On Monday when Harry went back to school he immediately sought out Emil and Etienne.

"_Je suis désolé_" they all blurted out together making them laugh.

"is it true?" Emil asked Harry curiously "is _Oncle_ Jean-Luc adopting you?"

Harry felt like there was lead in his stomach "What?"

"Maman said she overheard Henri talking about betting a little brother, when she asked him who he had said _El Diable Blanc_, 'dats what everyone calls you."

"Who calls me 'dat?" he said indignantly "I 'aint a white devil!"

Emil shuffled uncomfortably "jus' people that's all."

"What people, Emil!" Harry snapped

"Everyone!" Emil snapped back "they all make fun o' 'ya eyes! 'dey call you _un diable_ because o' 'dem!"

"why didn't' 'ya tell me?" Harry breathed out quietly

"'cause I knew it'd hurt 'ya. Ya' like Môn frère, I don't want ya' hurt."

"You're like my brother too, Emil."

Etienne, who had been quiet for quite some time, interjected by slinging an arm over both of their shoulders "well I think you're both stupid!"  
_

When Harry got home that afternoon, his aunt sat him down in the living room, there was the man there, and Dudley was sent to his room. In the middle of the coffee table sat a stack of papers.

"Boy, this is Jean-Luc, he has adopted you. You're now his son." Yeah, Petunia was never one to sugar coat things.

Harry sat down in shock "Adopt...me?"

"Oui." He responded "That bother you?"

"N-no"

"_Bon_, since you will be my son...can I name you?" despite the charisma and confidence that seemed to roll off this man in waves he seemed truly nervous when saying that.

Harry pondered for a moment, whilst he liked his name, and the face that his parents had named him, this man- Emil and Etienne's uncle, was willing to make him family, legally and in name.

"Sounds bon." Harry smiled a little. Jean-Luc smiled back and wrote the name down upon the papers, a name that in just a few short years would be recognised as a master thief within the thieves guild; Remy LeBeau.

AN- I added the translations at the bottom of the page, I don't speak French (I took Spanish instead) so I used a translator and I apologise for any mistakes, but I wanted this story to have that kind of Cajun speak.

_Bonjour- hello_

_ma Tante est folle- my aunt is crazy_

_garcon- boy_

_maman et papa- mum and dad_

_Non, ils sont morts- no, they're dead_

_je vis avec ma Tante- I live with my aunt_

_Rein Madame- nothing madam_

_je suis désolé- I'm sorry_

_Oncle- uncle_

_El Diable Blanc- the white devil_

_Un diable- a devil_

_Mon frère- my brother_

_Bon- good_


	4. The Guild

Remy, as he was now called, stared in wonder at the house-no- mansion that lay before him. It was traditionally designed in the sense that it had clearly once been a plantation, but there were two armed guards patrolling the electronic gate. His face pressed up against the car window Remy's eyes soaked up every detail of his new home. Jean-Luc helped him out of the car, and to the five-year-olds utter amazement the man took his hand in his own, and smiled at him before leading him into the house.  
The halls of his new home were white, and several paintings that seemed to be amazingly accurate copies hung from them. Remy's feet were bare, as Dudley had not thrown out any shoes lately and all of his old ones were far too small, and Remy immediately felt self conscious in his hand-me-downs and general dishevelled appearance. As if reading his mind, Jean-Luc placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don' you worry none." He smiled "I promise you'll fit right in, Remy."

Despite the comfort he was not convinced. A sudden thunder of feet made him jump and look up, as he did he found himself talked to the floor. Only one person in the world would be so annoying and only one person would think it was funny to tackle someone then sit of them.

"Emil!" he yelled

"Oui, cousin?" Emil grinned cheekily

Jean-Luc laughed heartily "Emil, what did Mattie tell you about jumpin' on people?"

Emil paled significantly "please don' tell her _oncle_! Please! I'll do anything!"

Remy paled even more, was this going to be just like Dursleys? Was he moving from one hateful environment to another? A sudden anger built up in his chest, if they were going to hurt Emil they'd have to go through him!

"Go tell Henri I want to talk ta' him."

Emil nodded enthusiastically and raced up the staircase. Jean-Luc sighed "that boy will do anything for cookies."

Remy frowned, when had they mentioned cookies? And just who was this 'Mattie' person? "What?"

A smiled flickered across the man's face "_Tante_ Mattie threatens to stop giving Emil cookies if he does something bad, 'dat boy is obsessed wit' 'de t'ings"

Remy let out an audible sigh of relief, releasing he breath that he hadn't realised that he had been holding. Jean-Luc frowned "what you think I was talkin' about? You didn't t'ink Emil was going to get hurt..." his eyes widened in realisation. "No! _Fils_, you won't ever be treated like you were by those animals!" Remy looked down at his dirtied feet, the sunlight through the ruby curtains that despite it being only three o'clock were pulled closed, the man- no- he reminded himself –his father- sank to his knee's so he was at eye level. "I took you in because I can see the potential in ya' because you deserve better than them. You understand me, _Mon__fils_?"

Remy was shocked at the sincerity of the man; he had called him his son. "Oui..." he breathed.

"Père?" a voice called. Remy turned around to see a boy about four years older than himself; he looked very much like Jean-Luc, which would make sense since he had just called the man his father.

"Henri!" he grinned "Dis is Remy! He's ya' new brother!"

Henri was tall for his age, and had lightly tanned skin; his eyes were warm and compassionate and seemed to shine with joy at the thought of a brother. He was dressed in simple clothes but his pick-pocketing stint had allowed him to differentiate between expensive clothing and cheap clothing. Henri's clothes were defiantly expensive. The older boy had dark hair like Jean-Luc but instead of keeping it in a low ponytail like his father, Henri kept his hair cropped short.

"Bonjour." Remy muttered softly, not quite meeting Henri's eyes. Henri frowned and looked over to his father questioningly. Jean-Luc shook his head at the boy, assuring him he hadn't done anything.

"Henri, why don' you show Remy's his room?"

Henri nodded excitedly and reached out his hand to Remy. Red-black eyes flickered up to the boy and studied him for a few moments, before apprehensively taking his hand, letting him lead him up the staircase.

Jean-Luc sighed as he watched his sons leave, he had known that the boy wouldn't trust them right away but he had hoped that he would at least feel comfortable in the mansion. The boy had let him name him, an act that in some ways made him feel like the boy's real father, but he was still weary when taking people's hands. Remy was small for his age, and looked to be underfed, hair was an odd sort of very dark red so dark that it looked black, but when the sunlight shone on it, there was a clear tint of russet hair. The boy always ran his fingers through it, a nervous habit perhaps, and tried to make it cover his eyes. Years ago, Jean-Luc had been working a job in a voodoo-rich part of town, when he found himself facing a small girl, she had told him of 'El Diable Blanc' who would unite the guilds and stop the war between them. Jean-Luc had passed it off as mere superstition but after seeing Remy's eyes...he couldn't take a chance. He had adopted the boy in hopes that eventually he would be able to stop the feud. He hadn't counted on this odd paternal instinct that he felt towards him, when he had seen how that awful English family (who had adamantly refused to take down those garish union flags, and insulted Cajun culture at every opportunity- clueless of their living in the most Cajun-inhabited part of New Orleans) had treated the boy, and when Emil told him of the horse-faced woman starving him (and their little kitchen heist) he had been impressed by the boy's strength of character, and his determination.

Jean-Luc was brought out of his thoughts by a scream of "EMIL!" followed by a burst of laughter, and thundering of footsteps. Emil came tearing down the staircase followed closely by Remy, who surprised Jean-Luc once more by flipping over the railing and spinning over once in the air, landing perfectly and beginning to run again. "Emil! Get back here!" it was then that he noticed the splatter or green paint on Remy's back. He slapped his forehead in exasperation 'why on earth had someone given Emil a paintball gun?' Henri descended the stairs slowly a solemn expression on his face.

"He hates me." He whined sadly "I try talking to him but he doesn't reply, he treats Emil more like a brother than me!"

"Henri," he chastised "he only met you today, you won' become friends in twenty minutes, just give him time, he's shy, and probably worried that you won' like him because I adopted him."

"But that's stupid!" Henri exclaimed "He's my brother now! I wouldn't feel like that!"

The guild patriarch chuckled and ruffled his son's hair "Why don' ya' tell him that?"

Just then Emil came charging through the corridor once more, this time covered in pink paint splatters. "Get back here, Emil!" came Remy's voice but there was a light-hearted and joyful tone to it, on that Jean-Luc had not heard before.

"No! Emil cried, out of breath "tha's it! I give! I give!"

Remy grinned and leapt at Emil, tackling him to the floor. He sat on Emil and raised his arms triumphantly "I win!" Emil pushed him over and got him in a head lock, and preceded to noogie him. Henri watched the two for a moment before raising the paintball gun that he had retrieved from the floor.

He grinned "Bes' ta' start runnin', boys!" he fired a few bullets and chased the boys out of the house and into the back yard, all three of them laughing.  
Jean-Luc shook his head and smiled, for now Remy was acclimatising, he would wait till the boy was comfortable enough here to tell him of the guild, and its activities, and would only offer for the boy to start training, if he accepted it.

AN- thank you to everyone who reviewed, I hope that you enjoy this chapter and continue to review.

_Oncle_- uncle

_Tante_- aunt

_Oui_- yes

_Fils_- son

_Mon fils-_ my son


	5. Belladonna

Remy had taken the news about The Thieves Guild surprisingly well, and when Jean-Luc asked him to join he responded with an eager 'Yes!', so Jean-Luc had arranged a test of the child's physical prowess, as well as testing his skills at thievery. Remy had amazed everyone at the sheer agility he possessed. Even the most experienced of thieves could never surpass how silent Remy could walk, or how fast his reactions were and just how balanced he was. The boy was a natural when it came to stealing, Jean-Luc need only show him how to do something once or twice, and he picked it up.

Something that became quickly apparent was just how much energy Remy had, he would never sit still! So Jean-Luc arranged for him to be tutored in martial arts, it was a little soon for him to be taught but he hoped that it would decrease the never ending energy that the child had, besides, he would have had to have learnt to fight before his tilling anyway.  
Emil and Remy were inseparable, and unfortunately Remy seemed to have taken on Emil's talent for trouble. Whether they were hiding the other thieves' possessions or throwing water balloons, they constantly played tricks. It only took a week for Remy to start calling Henri, his _frère_, surprising the patriarch at his quick acceptance of their family. Clearly those people had starved him of affection.

A year after Remy had been adopted, Jean-Luc held a party for the child's sixth birthday. Remy's had watched in awe and had been too shocked to speak. Emil and Etienne took the opportunity to smash cake into either side of his face. Remy had picked up a large handful of the cake and had been about to throw it when the cake started to glow an odd pink colour. The light pulsated before exploding in Remy's face. Although everyone had been shocked, Jean-Luc had passed it off as a fluke, a trick of the light, there was no way that Remy could have done that.

When Remy had been seven years old his martial arts instructor had introduced him to the boa staff. It became Remy's favourite weapon. Within a few months Remy became proficient and was able to hold his own against opponents twice his age.

At eight years old, Remy had become very independent, he began to wander around New Orleans alone, and he often snuck out of the house. Jean-Luc felt like tearing his hair out in exasperation and worry over his son. Over the two years that he had been the boy's father, he had truly come to care for the boy; he loved him like he loved his biological son, and couldn't bare the boy being hurt.  
Henri, who was now thirteen, often told him not to worry so much, that Remy was more than capable of taking care of himself. Jean-Luc would just sigh and glance at the clock, and then mumble something about Remy being out late before going back to his office.

Remy had developed a love of running over rooftops. His seemingly unnatural grace and agility made it all too easy to jump from one roof to the other, if he did it fast enough; he could jump a sequence of seven houses in a row. He'd never had a bigger adrenaline rush. He was sitting on a relatively low wall by his standards- only seven foot high- when he saw her for the first time. She looked to be the same age as him, and she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her long blonde hair swayed as she walked and she looked adorable in blue. She was eating an ice cream, and almost skipping as she walked. That's when he noticed the men following her, he was about to call out a warning when one of them pulled a gun. Acting on instinct he vaulted off of the wall and solidly kicked the man in the face, knocking him out, before he could react and take out the other two, the girl had dropped her ice cream and suddenly both of them were lying dead in the dirt with knives implanted in their chests.

"Idiot!" she spat and slapped him. "Ya' could have ruined everything! Don't ya'-" she broke off when she met his eyes, and stared for a few moments before blushing and looking away.

Remy grew angry "so what? I try ta' help ya' and ya' slap me?" she still wouldn't meet his eyes, choosing to look anywhere but into them. Remy grew even angrier "dey're just eyes, _cher_" he sneered at the usually endearing word. "dey scare you?"

"No..." she mumbled "_desole_, but I...dey're jus'...different tha's all."

Remy cooled down a little "yeah... look...I'm sorry for shoutin' at ya', it's jus'... people just get real fussy 'bout my eyes."

"I like 'em!" she protested before blushing furiously and hiding her face in her hands.

Remy ran his hand through his hair awkwardly, but secretly he was touched. No one had ever said that they liked his eyes before. He smiled at her "why don' we go get you another ice cream? 'sides we should pro'ly get out of here before someone fids 'dem." He jabbed a thumb over to the corpses, despite being a little creeped-out by her, those men had been trying to kill her, and he didn't feel any sympathy towards the. They got what they deserved. "How'd you do 'dat anyway? 'dats some skill!" she blushed a deeper red and mumbled about her father teaching her. "I'm Remy." He offered his hand for her to take

"Belladonna" she smiled and took his hand, blushing once more when he kept hold of it as they were walking.

Henri Lebeau sighed and shook his head. He and Remy had made a deal, Henri would keep Jean-Luc off of Remy's back about going off on his own, if Remy promised to be home by eight. It was nine 'o'clock. Cursing as he tripped up, Henri pulled on his coat and shoes before leaving to retrieve Remy.

It took another hour to find him, and when he did he nearly died of shock. His little brother was sitting on a bench holding hands with Belladonna Bordereaux, the 'little princess' of the assassins'' guild and apple of Marcus Bordereaux's eye. They were laughing and it was clear that the two of them were friends, but if the incessant blushing of Belladonna was any indication, she liked Remy more than that. He smirked and filed the information away as blackmail.

"Remy!" he called, startling the boy and making him jump.

"Henri..." he glanced down at his watch and jumped up "_je suis désolé, Henri !" _ he turned to the girl "_desole _Belle, but I have to go! _Père_'s gonna kill me!" 'Belle' looked a little put out but nodded her understanding and hesitated before kissing Remy's cheek and running off.

Remy watched her go untol Henri smacked the back of his head. "You're such a fool!"

Remy pouted childishly "why's everyone callin' me stupid today? It's like everyone is havin' their ha-ha's at my expense!"

"Remy, 'dats Belladonna Bordereaux, she's the daughter of the patriarch of the assassin's guild."

Remy paled significantly at the news. "_Oui_..." he managed to breathe out "I did wonder about that..."

"Remy!" he scolded "this is serious! What you t'ink Marcus is gonna do when he finds out his little girl is crushin' on a t'ief? You t'ink he's jus' gonna be okay wit' dat?"

Remy blushed "dat's crazy talk."

Henri grinned widely "oh, have I struck a nerve?"

""_Fermez _Henri!" Remy glared "I don' have a crush on her! We're_ amis _dat's all!"

"Oh? Did I imagine ya' li'l nickname for your 'Belle' _fille_?" Henri grinned widely, and ran off down the street as his little brother began to chase him.

_Frere_- brother

_Cher_- dear

_Desole_- sorry

_je suis désolé- _I'm sorry

_Père- _dad

_Oui_- yes


	6. Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin was a young man of twenty-nine years, but he held the same pain and exhaustion in his amber eyes that only men three times his age possessed. His light brown hair had specks of grey here and there and his clothes were patched and ragged. He would have been rather handsome if not for the large scar crossing his face diagonally from the right temple to the left side of his lip. He possessed many scars but that was the most noticeable. Remus Lupin was a wizard, and a rather good one at that. He was also extremely poor, because he was also a werewolf, and it was very hard to hold down a job or even find one for that matter, when employers were so prejudiced towards people who had a condition that was neither their fault, nor something that they could control.

Remus sighed and flung his weary frame onto the low brick wall. It had been eight years since he lost everything in one night. Two of his first ever friends had died leaving their son an orphan, then their son's godfather, his best friend, had murdered their remaining friend, before being carted off to Azkaban.  
He stood up and ran a hand through his hair as he began walking.

Little Harry had been sent to live with muggles, and in accordance to wizarding law; Remus was not legally allowed to see the boy again. He was broken from his chain of thoughts when a young boy barrelled into him.

"_Desole, monsieur_!" the boy said, out of breath. Remus looked up and was shocked to see a boy that looked almost like a carbon copy of his deceased friend apart from the shade of his hair. The fact that he was wearing sunglasses made it impossible to determine his eyes colour. He helped Remus up and started to run again.

"Wait!" Remus called and ran after him. That's when he noticed the two men, roughly eighteen or so, chasing the James-look- alike. They caught up with the boy before he did, and cornered him in between two houses.

"Give it here boy!" The larger of the two growled

The boy grinned cheekily "I don' have anyt'in! Honest!" the boy's demeanour was so much like James' when he had been caught doing something mischievous.

The shorter of the two men pulled out a knife while the taller grabbed the boy by the arms and held him off of the floor. The boy kicked wildly and tried to reach for something inside of his coat, but that man's grip tightened.

"How 'bout we cut out 'dose eyes o' yer's and send 'dem to ya' _Père_, send 'da right message..." the man with the knife punched him in the stomach. "Ya' don' steal from de' assassin's guild!" he whipped the boy's glasses off and crushed them in one hand.

Remus inhaled sharply. This couldn't be happening. About half a year before they went into hiding, James had broken down in front of him. He had cried and sobbed as he told Remus what he had done to his child. How guilty he had felt for feeling disgusted by his own child. He had of course been drunk at the time, but Remus knew that James would never have lied about something like that. The boy being assaulted, who looked so like James, and had the very eyes that James had described...it couldn't be a coincidence. This boy...he was Harry.

Without thinking he stunned the two boys, and jogged over to the boy.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he helped him stand.

The boy nodded "Merci." He looked at the men "how'd ya' do that?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably "Magic."

The boy-Harry- cracked a wry smile "right."

"Your name is Harry Potter, isn't it?" Remus asked. Usually he would have planned out exactly what he was going to say, and carefully approached the issue, but seeing the boy he hadn't seen in eight years made him forget political correctness.

The boy froze his expression unreadable "My name is Remy LeBeau, _monsieur_."

Remus wasn't deterred "But were you once called by that name?"

Uncomfortably, he shifted and bit out "what business is it of yours?"

"Because my friend had a child by the name of Harry Potter, and it's funny but he looked exactly like you."

'Harry's expression twisted into a sneer "Well you've got de' wrong person!" he snapped and began to run away.

"Hey!" Remus called "wait!" he caught up with the boy, and easily matched his pace, that seemed to surprise 'Harry' more than anything. "I just want to talk to you! Hear me out for five minutes, then I promise if you don't believe me then I'll leave!"

'Harry' stopped abruptly and turned his burning red eyes to the werewolf "fine!" he snapped angrily "ya' got _cinq _minutes!"

"My friends, James and Lily Potter had a little boy- Harry Potter, they named a mutual friend of ours his godfather. He betrayed them and they ended up being murdered. I was written in their will as a next of kin, but I wasn't allowed to take care of the boy, he was sent to live with his mother's sister and that is where I believed him to be until I saw you. You look exactly like James, apart from your hair. And you have the same eyes that Harry's has."

'Harry' stood still, his face devoid of any expression other than shock. He cleared his throat "I...I used to be called that...but I was adopted." He ran his hand through his hair uneasily, which sent a shot of pain through Remus- James had done the same thing. "Look..." the boy began "I don' know ya', but...you're welcome ta' meet Môn Père, Jean-Luc LeBeau."

Remus nodded and followed Harry- or rather Remy, as he had to remind himself- through the city, neither of them saying another word to the other until they reached a large wrought-iron gate, with two armed guards stationed by outside it. Remy began to speak in rapid French to the two guards, with a smile they opened the gate and let both of them through. Remus stayed behind Remy as he followed him through the halls of the mansion, he was about to ask him a question when a thundering of footsteps could be heard. A whir of colour passed Remus and tackled Remy to the floor.

"Emil!" Remy shouted angrily as he tried to push a boy with red hair off of him. Remus watched in amusement. "Get off!"

"Well, 'bonjour' to you too!" Emil pouted

"Emil, I swear if ya' don' get off' a me I'll go tell _Tante_ Mattie that I caught ya' stealin' from her kitchen!" Remy threatened

Emil paled considerably "ya' wouldn'!"

"Wanna bet?"

Emil scrambled off of Remy and ran away down the corridor. Shouting; 'Remy's a liar! I never stole nothing' from ya' _Tante _Mattie! Dere's no need for da' spoon!'

Remus frowned "spoon?"

Remy grinned slightly "Emil's always pinchin' cookies, _Tante_ whacks his knuckles wit' da wooden spoon when he tries ta' steal t'ings from de kitchen. " after seeing Remus' expression Remy hastened to add "Not ta' hurt him! Jus' lightly!"

"Does your friend always tackle you?"

Remy winced "Dat's just Emil's way. He t'inks he's funny."

"Remy." A gravelly voice called. Remus turned around to see a tall man with brown hair, smoking a cigarette "Who's 'dis?"

"Remus Lupin" he introduced himself

"He knows 'bout my birth parents." Remy told him "also, he did dis' really weird t'ing and knocked out Gris Gris and Julian when dey were chasin' me!"

Jean-Luc sent Remy a stern look "an' what were dey doin' chasin' you?"

Remy shuffled uncomfortably "I taught Belle how ta pick locks and do swipe and switch's, I t'ink she took somet'in of Julian's. Dey' were blamin' me."

"Damn it Remy!" he snapped "What I tell you 'bout stayin' away from dat _fille_!"

"But Père!" Remy protested "She's _môn ami_!"

"Remy!" he scolded his son. "Go find Emil, me and Remus got ta' talk."

Remy grumbled and left the room, shuffling his feet as he clambered up the stairs.

Jean-Luc led Remus to his office and closed the door. "I'm only gonna say dis once, you try to hurt my son, I'll kill you. You may t'ink dat' its clever ta let the son of de guild master let you in, and ta play wit' his emotions, but let me warn ya, if it turns out ya lyin' about knowing his parents, or dat ya spyin' on de guild, I won' hesitate ta kill ya, _tu comprend?"_

"What?"

Jean-Luc rolled his eyes "Ya understand?"

Remus nodded and proceeded to tell the older man everything, well aware he was breaking the statuette of secrecy; he even told him about magic, and what role it had to play in the deaths of Harry's parents. When he got to telling Jean-Luc about the death of lord Voldemort, and how the house exploded, Jean-Luc acquired a thoughtful look on his face. As If he had realised something that Remus had not. Remus preformed several spells to prove that magic was in fact real, and then explained the mutant phenomena, and how the wizarding government had managed to conceal them from the muggle world, despite the fact that many of them were muggles, and how this was accomplished by working alongside the muggle governments.

"An' how do you know 'dis?" Remus looked bashful "it is commonplace to know about mutants in the magical community, but I ...uh..._acquired_ the information from the ministry."

A smile twitched at the corners of Jean-Luc's mouth. "You stole it."

"No!" Remus protested loudly, and then blushed at just how loud his proclamation had been. "I just...came across the file while I was in the ministry, and accidently read it." He said, sending Jean-Luc into a fit of laughter.

"So what does dis mean for Remy?" Jean-Luc said, sobering up quickly.

"When he is eleven he will have to attend magic school, unfortunately his name is already down to attend Hogwarts, and upon realising that your son is only adopted in the non-magical way, he will be placed either with a wizarding family or back with his blood relative. I don't know why but he was placed there for a reason, and who ever did leave him with the Dursleys, will want him back there.

"What is it ya' tryin' to say? That I give my son up!" he protested angrily

"No!" Remus exclaimed. "You just have to send a few letters to the ministry, directly to the Department of Magical Social Services and not the main inquiries, and simply complete the same paper work that is required to adopt in the muggle way, to change his name in the magical world it will take a few Galleons to make the name-change legal, but after that no-one can legally remove har- _Remy _from your care."

Jean-Luc joined his hands and placed them in his lap as he leaned back on the large leather office chair. "What's in it for you?" he inquired carefully "you could'a jus' taken the boy an' run. Why didn' you?"

Remus sighed "because I know what the Dursleys are like, they hate magic and are incredibly self centred. I know that any wizard family would expect Remy to be able to do unimaginable feats of magic, and most would only adopt him because of the fame that would come with him, I know that I cannot care for him legally or otherwise, and from what I have seen he sees you as his father, he is happy here and I doubt that he would be anywhere else."

"I'm goin' ta need some assistance in takin' care of dese t'ings, why don' you stay here a while?" the patriarch offered.

Remus became a permanent fixture inside The Thieves Guild from then on, and they prospered from it. Despite his moral objections towards the thieves activities, Remus proved beneficial to a new influx of custom, he managed to create a bridge into the magical world, and they received a great many jobs. Remy had not been told of his magical heritage, but he found the concept of magic exciting. Jean-Luc told him about how he was a mutant, and eventually Remy came to terms with that. Remy became friends with Remus, and Emil had taken to calling the werewolf 'Remy the Second".

The paper work for the magical adoption of Remy came through and cost around forty galleons to complete. But it was a relief that if Remy decided to go to Hogwarts or any other magical school (Remus had thought that Beauxbatons was appropriate since the boy spoke French) then he would go as Remy LeBeau, muggleborn, rather that Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived.

_Desole, monsieur- sorry mister _

_Mon ami- my friend _

_Fille- girl _

_Tante- aunt _

_Bonjour- hello _


	7. A Heist Gone Wrong

The conference room of the Guild of Assassins was the complete opposite of its thief counterpart. The Thieves Guild was decorated it rich fabrics and furniture, with a great many pieces of art, the meetings were held around a large oak table, clothed in either velvet or the finest of cottons. The assassin's guild on the other hand, met in a cold room, with no decorative features other that the curtains. The conference table was a cold steel with no cloth upon it, and at the end of it was a large throne-like chair, where Marcus Bordereaux sat with a cool presence demanding the respect, or at least fear, of everyone present.

Jean-Luc LeBeau was not an easily intimidated man, but being requested at a meeting of a rival guild was disconcerting none the less. The thief kept an emotionless mask displayed on his face, as he stared down his rival patriarch.

"For some time now, your guild has been willing to seek a diplomatic solution to the War of The Guilds." Marcus' speech was as cool as his demeanour. "We assassins are willing to consider this. Both of the guilds have suffered losses, it is logical to seek an end for this war, it is bad for business."

With the assassins, you never made a deal without them having more to gain then you did. Jean-Luc eyed the man critically. Before asking "What is it you suggest?"

"Unification," The man said simply "we have recognised the advantages of joining the guilds together, and ending the feud between us, and suggest a union through marriage."

Jean-Luc's blood ran cold. Hadn't Remy told him just the other day that he had taught belladonna several thieving skills? Remy was also good friends with the Assassin-girl, the same fille who had a massive crush on his youngest son...

"Between whom?" he asked, praying that he was wrong.

"The youngest of both guilds: your youngest son, and my daughter, to be carried out when they are old enough to be married."

Remy would never forgive him. The young mutant had lived in an environment where he had no choice but to bow down to his relatives, where his opinion did not count. The boy had finally found a family, one where he was truly happy. Could he risk his son hating him, for the good of everyone in the guild? Then again, the boy did spend an awful lot of time with the assassin's daughter and he seemed to like her well enough...perhaps he would grow to love her anyway? He thought of his youngest, and how brilliant a thief he was, if the truce was denied, they would surely seek him out, as the thieving prodigy, and kill him to send the right sort of message. He had no choice, he decided. Arranging a marriage for Remy was the alternative to having his son die. He agreed to sign the contract, and after reading it through several times, he signed his name, and sealed his son's future.

Emil Lapin was a boisterous child to say the least, but no one could say that he wasn't a loyal friend. Sure he tackled Remy all the time and may have put paintballs in his bed so that when Remy lay down on them they would pop and make Remy look like a mascot for 'Skittles', but he cared for his cousin deeply. He was his best friend. Remy had been down lately as Belladonna had stopped talking to him, and had ignored his phone calls, so Emil came up with a plan to cheer his cousin up.

Emil, Remy, and Etienne were all too young to take the 'Tilling' and become a full-thief, and as such they were only apprentices. Apprentices were often given small jobs that would prepare them for the future, they were simple and well within the abilities of the children. Emil thought them it was almost insulting for Remy to be given the ridiculously easy jobs, as Remy was a naturally gifted thief, he was far better than Emil and Etienne and they knew it. But they were far better than Remy when it came to computer hacking. Emil had discovered his skill when he had managed to get passed all of the security on his father's computer and had hacked into his bank account (checked all of his transactions) and had managed to figure out exactly what his father had brought him for his tenth birthday.

So Emil came up with a plan. They were going to steal a plane. (It had nothing to do with the fact that Emil really, _really_ wanted a plane, no... it was merely for the purpose of cheering Remy up with a challenging heist). Emil had everything planned out, they wouldn't be stealing anything too huge, (the idea of stealing a jumbo jet had been rejected early on in the planning since it would have been practically impossible to hide) no, they were simply going to steal a floatplane. There was a rather large (but not huge) depot where they sold them. The store where the ownership of the planes was transferred, and all of the paperwork completed, was exactly half a kilometre away from the dock on the bayou were the planes were tethered. They would have to disable the security systems, break into the office, steal the keys, and find the correct key that went to the nearest plane (or rather, to the plane that Emil liked best) and they would have to fly the plane out of the bayou, exactly twenty minutes after stealing the keys. At the most it would take about five minutes to reach the planes and another five to take off, leaving them ten minutes to gain a head start on whoever may follow them. In Emil's mind the plan was foolproof.

"Remy!" he called as he ran after his cousin, and when he caught up with him, he once again tackled the other boy to the floor.

"Get off, Emil!" came the standard response

"But Remy, I have a plan!"

Emil proceeded to tell Remy of his (foolproof) plan. Remy's red eyes were as wide as saucers. "Emil, dat is the smartest t'ing dat you have ever come up wit'"

"I know!" Emil grinned proudly "so you'll do it?"

Remy grinned widely "Of course I will."

So on Saturday night, Emil and Remy dressed in the standard apprentice uniform for jobs- a Kevlar suit with lightweight body armour, and, steel toed boots with black, metal shin guards, along with a pair of gloves -(all of which was black, which suited their purposes well), and they snuck out of their rooms, taking both of their lock-picks. (Remy had been tempted to take his boa staff, but Emil had convinced him that it would simply be too cumbersome. It was around half four in the morning, as it had taken jean-Luc longer than usual to go to bed, Remy figured that he must be upset about the war with the assassins, or that Henri (who was now fifteen) was proclaiming to be utterly in love with his girlfriend Mercy, and had declared that he was one day going to marry her, he dismissed Jean-Luc's problems as 'dad/adult problems' and didn't think too much into it.

When they finally gotten to the plane depot (after walking for nearly half an hour), It had taken Remy perhaps half a minute to unlock the gates, and the doors to the floatplane office, and had taken Emil less than that to switch off the alarm system and all security cameras. The office was unbelievably clean and organised making it all too simple to find the keys, all of which were deposited in a brown paper envelope. Remy put the envelope of keys in his pocket, and took another, empty envelope from the desk, filling it with the bag of marbles he had just swiped from Emil's own pocket, and replacing the old envelope with the new, once he was satisfied that they were of similar weight. Remy locked the door behind them, and he and Emil clambered out of the office window, and down to the plane dock.

Emil stood in thought for a minute or two before declaring "de red one." and scrambled the keys until he found the correct key and drug Remy to the plane, which happened to be the farthest away. When both cousins sat in the cockpit of the plane, they realised the fundamental flaw in their plan. Neither of them knew how to fly the plane. Remy pointed this out to his cousin, who simply shrugged, turned on the ignition and said "how hard can it be?"

Two hours later, they arrived back at the guild, after having crashed the plane in the swamp. Both of the cousins were plastered in mud, and Remy had a large abundance of leaves stuck in his hair. Tante Mattie had found them trying to sneak back in, and after giving them a cup of cocoa she had proceeded to scold them and then told them both to clean up. When they came back downstairs, clean of all the swamp mud, and in fresh clothes, they found Jean-Luc waiting for them at the bottom.

When Jean-Luc had been told what his son and nephew had done he was both furious and proud. He was proud that two ten year old boys had managed to steal a plane successfully, before they crashed it of course, and furious that they had done so without permission or supervision.

"Ya could' a _died_, boys!" he stressed "it was dangerous of ya' to try it, and for that Emil you will be on laundry duty for de next month. Remy you'll be helpin' _Tante_ in de kitchen for de next month. Emil, you won' be allowed near any o' de computers, and Remy, you won' be allowed to go to any o' ya martial arts classes."

Both boys began to protest, Emil claiming that if he wasn't allowed to hack into government systems or play 'Earthworm Jim' then he would literally _die_, and Remy complaining that he _had_ to go to both his martial arts classes or hewould_ die_.

"Enough!" Jean-Luc snapped "if you keep misbehaving I'll set back your Tilling's till ya both my age!"

Rey and Emil gulped, but wisely didn't say anything else on the matter, both of them set to work with the tasks that they had been given. When he reached the kitchen Tante Mattie had tapped him over the head with the dreaded wooden spoon, in mock anger, and had told him that he was really rather stupid for trying to steal a plane without knowing how to fly one. She then wrapped her arms around him. "I'm just glad you're okay, Remy." She smoothed his hair down affectionately "now get to work slicin' dat bread! We gotta get started on breakfast!"

Remy was miserable. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his time with Tante Mattie, in fact he loved it. He wouldn't admit it but secretly he enjoyed learning how to cook all of his favourite dishes. What he was miserable about was the fact that he couldn't go to his martial arts classes. He was utterly bored, and had far too much energy to spare. Jean-Luc had also banned both of the cousins from going on any jobs, which left Remy even more bored than he was originally. What made things worse is that with both of them working off their punishment at different times, and Etienne visiting his mother (she didn't live with them, because she disapproved of her ex-husbands career choice- hence the 'ex'), and Remus working in England, as well as Belle not talking to him, both Remy and Emil found themselves alone when they weren't working, and both were terribly, horribly _bored_.

Remy was walking the streets of New Orleans, kicking a pebble or two every now and again, when he saw a group of people through the window of a building, which was quickly identified as a community centre, performing the most amazing stunts he could imagine. A sly grin found its way across his face. Père had said that he couldn't go to his martial arts classes; he didn't say anything about joining something else! After an hour Remy had become a member or the acrobatic gymnastics group. Whenever _Tante _Mattie didn't need him, Remy found his way back to the group, his speed, agility and reflexes that he was sure had something to do with his mutation, enabled him to progress quickly and learn how to do most of the manoeuvres within only a few tries. What endeared his new friends to him even more was their acceptance of his eyes. When they had seen them they had been understandably shocked, but they quickly got over the shock.

In acrobatics, Remy had found something that he had true skill in, that was enjoyable and that could improve both his thieving skills, and would be beneficial to learning martial arts. But most of all Remy truly enjoyed it.


	8. Magic or Mutation

For as long as Remy could remember there had been one fundamental rule that he had lived his life by: girls are icky. So he found it incredibly strange when he found himself staring at Sarah Carlson, a girl who was in his class at school. At first he had thought that he was sick but it didn't sound like a normal sickness, so he went to see Remus, who had only laughed and patted him on the head telling him not to worry about it. So he found himself walking to his brother's room, only to find him missing (probably with Mercy, again). Emil and Etienne were both one year younger than him, and their class had a residential trip, where they would stay for a few days, and neither were due back until the weekend, leaving poor Remy with his sickness, and not knowing what to do about it.

Belladonna had been acting really weird lately, she always grabbed onto him whenever they were out together, (he found this incredibly annoying as he was sure that neither Emil or Etienne ever felt the urge to suddenly attack him...ignoring Emil's unorthodox greetings, of course) and she never did tell him why she had been avoiding him. She was becoming a real pain, she always wanted to go shopping (insisting that since Remy was a thief he should pay for he since he had the funds) or to go and watch some stupid movie, she never wanted to go and run rooftops with him, nor did she enjoy his recent love of video games. Truthfully Remy wasn't sure that he liked being friends with her all that much anymore, she wouldn't even steal with him like Emil would, or play poker like Etienne. Remy did love to play poker, and what he loved most of all was that despite his cousins love of the game, Etienne was utterly hopeless when it came to playing.

Despite his misgivings about their friendship lately, Remy decided that since neither Henri, Emil, nor Etienne were there for him to share his woes with, then Belle would have to do.

He didn't expect her to slap him after he told her that he liked Sarah Carlson. "How dare ya'!" she screeched "ya' mine! Not some _fille_ ya' jus' met!" she glared at him, the full flare of an anger he didn't even realise that she possessed burning into his demonic eyes "I swear if you so much as look at another girl then I'll kill em'!" she promised

Remy was speechless. He had known that Belladonna had passed the Assassin's equivalent of the thieves 'Tilling' but truthfully he hadn't seen her as one of those insane assassins that could kill without a second thought. He had truly believed that she was different, that she couldn't possibly be as obsessive as her brother or father. He simply stared at her unblinkingly and walked away.

"Don' you walk away from me, Remy Lebeau!" she spat chasing after him

"Leave me alone Belle!" he snapped "why you gotta act so weird? We're supposed to be friends and your acting like I'm ya possession! That ain't right!"

"Because we're gonna be married, idiot!" she spat

Remy's blood felt like liquid ice, burning and freezing his body at the same time, his mind came to a standstill as lead sank in his stomach "What?"

"Our Père's arranged it already!" she grew cheerful as if she was telling him the greatest news anyone could receive. "Isn't that great? We're gonna be together forever! I'll be Mrs. Lebeau and you will train as an assassin and we'll be happy and-"

Remy was not an angry child. He very rarely raised his voice. Instead, his demonic eyes burned a brighter red and his voice became icy and cruel. "Even if you were the last person on earth, I wouldn't marry you if it meant being an assassin." He glared at her "Ya' crazy, Belle! I'm never goin' ta' marry you!"

Tears sprung to her eyes but she was too overcome by the anger of Remy's rejection of her to cry "Shut up! You're jus' a no good t'ief, ya don' know what ya talking' about! If I marry you den' de guild's will join and I'll be head of both, I don't care about you either! You_ Diable_! As if anyone else, other den me, would want ya wit dose demon eyes of yours!" she spat and ran away leaving a fuming Remy in the middle of the street.

When she was out of Remy's sight, Belladonna cried for the loss of her friend. She knew that what she had said was hurtful, especially the crack about Remy's eyes, but her_ Père_ had told her that she could be the head of both guilds, that she could be a thief and an assassin, something that she had craved since Remy had started teaching her. She hadn't counted on Remy not loving her enough to marry her. (Regardless of the fact that she did not understand what love was, when it was not platonic) she had honestly thought that he would want to marry her, after all, they were friends weren't they?

Remy had never felt so angry, his blood boiled and his lungs became tight. The flesh of his hands was so painful, as if it burned. His eyes opened after he took a deep breath, and he panicked, he was surrounded in a pink energy, there was so much that it felt like his skin was on fire. His vision tinted pink with all of the energy when suddenly...BOOM! The energy exploded in the form of static, latching onto whatever it could and exploding it. Remy hissed as his hands were cut by pieces of shrapnel of a nearby ex-mailbox. Pink flashes of static lightning shot from his body, sending shocks down his spine. Remy fell to his knees out of breath and a little shaken, phantom pain from where the lightning had touched still aching. He couldn't tell anyone about this, it was too dangerous, and truthfully, it scared him.

Over the last four weeks Jean-Luc had noticed a change in his youngest son, so much so that it was like seeing a different person. Remy went to all of his training sessions and spent extra time at the community centre practicing his acrobatics, and it seemed that he was purposefully going out of his way to not go home, something that he had also done with the Dursleys. The boy was training harder than ever, and it was incredible the rate that he was improving. Already he was a better thief than Henri at his age, and a better fighter than most in the guild.

The training room was well lit and clean, its floors covered in springy boards akin to what you would find in a dojo. The ceiling was extremely high to accommodate the large mock-apartment building that was used to teach thieves how to climb into and out of high story buildings. To one end of the room was a set of punching bags, and to the other the entrance to the armoury. When Jean-Luc entered the training room he immediately noticed the open armoury door, and the lack of one of the boa staffs. Sighing he walked into the room and was amazed at what he saw. Remy was fighting off twelve thieves (all of whom were a part of his training group), using only a boa staff. Every now and then he would vault into the air with incredible agility and plant his boot in their faces, either knocking them out or causing them to be disorientated and fall to the floor. Remy used the staff as a lever and flung himself at his instructor, who was also joining in the fight, and planted both boots in the man's chest. The boy then used the man as a vault, and somersaulted backwards, swinging the staff as he did so, and beating his final opponent. Out of breath, and still furious Remy landed in a crouch staring down the opponents he had just defeated.

"Now dat's what I'm talkin' about!" his instructor, Vincent Aimes said proudly "I been teachin' all' a you for nearly five years an' you get beat by an eleven year old!" he looked over all of the fallen opponents before turning to Remy "you did good, boy, but you should never fight on anger alone, it's de wise who win, not de angry." Remy looked down ashamed, and as he did so he saw his boa staff had been cleaved in two. He felt a little sadness at its loss, it had been a constant companion for nearly two years now, and the wooden staff had fitted perfectly in his hand.

Vincent noticed his gaze "Don' worry 'bout it, none. We'll get ya a better one, one dat don' break and can be hid much easier." He smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair "ya earned it kid."

A smile lit up Remy's face and he thanked Vincent before running out of the room, not even meeting Jean-Luc's eyes as he did so. The other students left after Remy did grumbling about being beaten by the boy, and how he had a never ending supply of energy. Vincent didn't meet Jean-Luc's eye strait away, he picked up the broken staff and all of the splinters that came with it, depositing them in the bin inside the armoury.

"How is he?" Jean-Luc asked softly, glancing at the man in front of him.

Vincent Aimes was a half-Cajun and half-Korean man of average height with lightly tanned skin and a stern face. He had been a part of the Thieves' Guild longer than Jean-Luc; he had taught the patriarch when he was just a boy, earning Jean-Luc's admiration and his friendship. 

"Angry." He said simply "Dat boy is de best I've ever taught but when he's upset it's obvious." He looked at Jean-Luc as if he could see into his soul, making Jean-Luc squirm a little "But you know already don't you? You've done something and dat boy knows all about it." He chuckled lightly "he's a curious one; ya can't keep nothin' from him dats for damn sure." Vincent sat down upon a bench in the armoury and pulled out a bottle of bourbon seemingly from nowhere, he took a swig and offered it to his friend, who sighed and sat down, taking the offered drink and running a hand through his loose hair.

"Remy's de best t'ief we've had in a long time." He stated, staring at the bourbon in his hand and not quite meeting Vincent's eyes "ya know dat if dis war continued he'll be de first one dey come after."

Vincent nodded but said nothing, preferring to listen to what his friend had to say.

"Dey offered a truce; dat's what de assassins wanted ta talk about."

Vincent frowned "Assassins won't profit from peace, Jean-Luc. They thrive off of disorder."

Jean-Luc sighed "He's my son. Despite my distrust of de assassins, I've got to protect him. It's my job as his father."

"What did they ask for?" Vincent fixed him with a knowing look

"Dey want Remy t' marry Belladonna Bordereaux."

Vincent laughed humourlessly, "Remy told me dat he had a fight wit' her, a while ago, and dat she's de craziest fille he's ever met."

Jean-Luc groaned "De boy can't get enough'a her and when he gets her he don' wan' her!"

Vincent slapped the patriarch on the back "Dat's parenthood."

The meagre joking was pushed aside as quickly as it came "ya know dat boy, ya' try an' make him do anythin' he don' wanna do, an' he'll wriggle right outta it." He met his friends eyes "If he don' want to, den he won't marry her, you know dat, right?"

Sighing the thief put his head in his hands, and ran them though his hair "I know. I just want him safe."

Vincent was silent for a while, watching his friend who had never looked so weary in all the time that he had known him. He smiled and clapped the other man on the back "c'mon, I can't finish this bourbon by myself!"

Remy was furious even though he was going through his acrobatics routine in his room (an activity that usually calmed him down) he still felt anger simmering in his heart. He balanced on his hands, and had been doing so for the past twenty minutes. The burning in his muscles distracted him from his anger. How could Jean-Luc agree to let him marry Belle? Why would he do that unless...that was the whole reason he had adopted him. He hadn't wanted to force his biological son to marry an assassin so he had adopted a freak, a_ Diable_ with red eyes and weird powers just so the boy would marry the assassin, like some cruel joke. Tears sprung to his eyes as he lifted one arm away, so that he was supported by only the left arm, he was about to push himself into a somersault, but a rather loud tapping at his window made him loose his balance and crash into a surprised and painful heap onto his bedroom floor. Cursing, he picked himself up and went to the window. He blinked twice, just to make sure that he really was seeing an owl carrying a letter in its beak, which in large emerald green ink was addressed to him. Apprehensively he opened the window and took the letter from the bird, which promptly let out an indignant hoot and flew back out through the window.

Mr. Remy Lebeau

First Bedroom on the Left

Second Floor

The Thieves Guild

New Orleans

Louisiana

The paper felt strange, like the old papers that Jean-Luc had let his sift through, it was stiff and discoloured. Parchment, he realised mentally. Who still used parchment anyway? The envelope was shut by a wax seal with an imprinted with a large 'H'. Curiosity winning over his apprehension, Remy tore the letter open and scanned it. Magic. He was magical, and Remus had never told him. His anger rose once more, burning through his veins, and as it did the letter began to glow pink before exploding in his hands, burning the flesh. He cried out in pain and held his hands to his chest. Tears of pain sprung to his eyes. He knew that the strange light had nothing to do with magic, because whenever Remus did magic he had to use a wand and say Latin-sounding words. The skin of his palms shone the way that burnt flesh does, and the wounds were angry and puckered. Whimpering in pain as he did so, Remy made his way down to the kitchens, where _Tante _Mattie took one look at him, then his hands, and was soon wrapping then in ointment and bandages.

As she was wrapping the second hand Remy told her of the letter. "It glowed pink." He told her, whispering for fear of someone overhearing "and then in a matter of seconds it exploded in my hands." His fear was evident in his voice, and after she tied off the bandage Mattie pulled the boy into her arms.

"y' got nothin t' fear, Remy." She soothed "everyt'ing happens for a reason, this power o' yours don' make you any different in my eyes." She smiled and smoothed down his hair "y' still that lil' sneak t'ief helpin' his cousin steal from my kitchen."

Remy smiled a little but the fear of the strange power was still present in his mind. Was this a part of his mutation? What if it got worse? What if-? He broke of his train of thought when Mattie handed him an apple. He looked at her questioningly, to which she beamed a large smile "so you don' try and steal it later!" she chuckled. Remy thanked her for the apple and left her to make dinner (she insisted that she needed no help, and for him to go and lie down) once in his room, he awkwardly managed to pick up the burnt scraps of parchment, of which he could only make out the word "Hogwarts".

_AN- Should Remy go to Hogwarts, or to another school? If Hogwarts then what house?_


	9. A Sinister Turn of Events

As the weeks passed the episodes of energy explosions due to Remy's mutation increased. The attacks and offsets of energy grew more and more frequent; it reached the point that he would have to have a constant chaperone, to make sure that he didn't hurt himself when the energy began to surface. Despite the fact that they were thieves, and that many people who were not actually related lived in the same mansion, there was actually a chore rota. Because the thief's guild was obviously a criminal organisation, hiring maids and cleaners would just put an unnecessary risk of exposure within the organisation, instead there was the chore rota. Everyone, young and old participated to some degree in the upkeep of the mansion and as an extension the organisation. Ten percent of every heist went into the guild fund, which was used for training equipment, surveillance and general expenses such as groceries and cleaning products. It was Remy's turn to do the grocery shopping, despite the fact that he could have handled the meagre items that were required, Remus volunteered to go with him. They were halfway down the street, both man and boy with their arms full of shopping, when Remy felt the now very familiar start of and energy attack, he sank to his knees in the middle of a small New Orleans street, Remus crouching beside him with a worried expression on his face. Remy tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

"Remy are you alright?" he asked worriedly

"I'm fine." The sentiment was cut off by his wince of pain.

A click of expensive shoes of old pavement sounded and a large shadow was cast of Remy, he looked up to see an odd looking man with slicked back hair and sunglasses, he had the palest skin that Remy had ever seen and possessed several scars across his face and neck, most of them surrounding his concealed eyes. A permanent sneering look seemed plastered on his face. Each step the man took seemed to echo so loudly that even without his already sensitive hearing Remus was sure that he would be wincing. The echo of the footsteps felt like the man was stepping on Remus' very soul, just those clicking steps installing a great sense of apprehension, the already heightened senses of the werewolf were going haywire because of the approaching lunar cycle, it was only a few days until the full moon, and Remus' instincts were in overdrive, screaming and howling at him to take the 'Pup' and run as far away as he could.

"Having trouble controlling that mutation are you?" he asked in a haughty manner, looking down upon the boy. Remy's blood felt like ice, something about that man screamed out at him to run away, that he was dangerous. How did he know about mutation?

"I don' know what ya talkin' about." Remy said in a clipped tone, not wanting to recognise the truth.

The man sneered "What an annoying child you are." He seemed to regain some composure, and said in a surprisingly convincing tone "I just want to help you, and all the children like you." He lowered his glasses just a little to reveal red pupils that seemed to glow with reassurance. Instantly Remy felt himself relax, although he didn't know why, and found himself clinging onto every word the man spoke "When you decide that you've had enough of not being in control of your own body, give me a call." And with that the man left, turning on his heel swiftly and walking away after handing Remy a business card.

Remus stared at the man with a hatred he didn't even know he possessed, somehow he had used a form of legellimency on Remy, as a werewolf he himself was not affected, but if the sudden change in Remy's attitude towards him was any indication he had certainly used a form of mind magic. As the day wore on Remus couldn't shake the feeling that he had met that man somewhere before, he was just too familiar. Staring down at the paperwork in front of him (Jean-Luc was hopeless when it came to paper work, so he had asked Remus to help) he finally decided to ask to see the card the Remy had.

Time seemed to stop and the world seemed to end when he read the name printed on the small piece of paper. _Dr. Nathaniel Essex._ The red eyed demon of a man who had been exiled from the entire wizarding world more than fifteen years ago, he had still been in school when it happened. The Magical Massacre as the Prophet had dubbed it. More than four hundred witches wizards and magical creatures had been going missing for years without explanation, when one day and explosion in a warehouse had revealed the truth. Aurors and Burse breakers had been called in because of reports of magical fire and screaming as well as spells being exchanged, a team of twelve had been sent by the ministry to subdue the duellers within and the rapidly increasing mob of curious magic users. Upon entering the warehouse and putting out all the fires even the most experienced of Aurors had difficulty refraining from being sick. All around were glass holding cells and operating tables, with witches and wizards in various states of decay and/or experimentation. Some had been dissected and were still breathing others were howling after being deliberately infected with various diseases.

One particular experiment had been a young witch of around seven or eight years old, who had been deliberately infected with vampirism, she had been pinned to and operating table and every half hour was injected with various drugs and the result of them against the Vampiric metabolism were recorded. After Essex had become bored with her he had thrown her into the cage of her twin brother who had been infected with lycanthropy on the first full moon, and had watched with great curiosity as they had torn each other apart. All of these experiments were recorded and to ensure that all charges were brought against Essex the team of Aurors had to watch all of the pensieve recordings.

After being taken into custody Essex had merely acted proud of his actions and claimed that it was for the betterment of wizarding kind. Despite is grievous crimes and horrific experiments the monster had somehow only been exiled and not sent to Azkaban.

Remus tried to ignore the horror of having Essex meet Remy and express interest in his abilities, and cleared his throat before turning to the boy he was beginning to regard as his own son. "Remy." He said firmly but still in a gentle tone "Promise me that you will never go near that man again. He's incredibly dangerous, and had killed a great many people; promise me you will never go to him, no matter what the consequences."

Remy's eyes were wide; he had never seen Remus so serious. Usually the amber eyed man was like a jovial older brother and was never particularly serious but a bit of a joker. "_D'accord_" he breathed _"Je Promets"_

Remus breathed a sigh of relief and sat beside the younger boy. "I'm sorry for being so harsh, but that man is a true demon, the things he did...it's too horrific for words, Remy. I don't want him anywhere near you." Remus left the room, making sure to take the business card with him.

Remy sighed and stared at his bare feet, wrapping his arms around his knees pulling them closer to his chest. "I'm scared of dese powers. Dey keep blowin' stuff up, and it keeps gettin' worse." He had his head in his hands "What am I gonna do? I can't keep dis up." The young mutant just sighed and glanced at the time. It was nearly four; his gymnastics would be starting soon. In a hurry, Remy grabbed his dark gray duffle bag and hurriedly tied the laces of his shoes before rushing out of the front door of the guild mansion. Running as fast as his agile legs would take him Remy charged down the streets of New Orleans, taking dozens of shortcuts that only came about from spending all of one's life in the city.

When the young thief arrived at the community centre and rushed through the doors he was greeted with a rather unpleasant sight. His team were all lined up, not even going through the warm up exercises, it was clear that they were waiting for him. Coach Campbell wasn't even there yet...

"What's goin' on?" Remy asked wearily, after the day he'd had, it was just his luck that something else would go wrong as well.

A few of the older members of the team shifted uncomfortably before Sarah, the very first gymnast who had whole heartedly welcomed Remy into the group, took it upon herself to answer. "It's not that we don't like you Remy, but for us to stand a chance in the competitions we need to have the judge's favour, and with your..._problem_, I just can't see them picking us."

Remy's face became a blank slate, all emotion devoid from his features save the burning anger in his eyes, making the red of his pupils burn and glow. "Problem...huh?" he bit out, his jaw clenched with unreleased fury.

"We know that your eyes aren't your fault, but with such a handicap on our team, we won't win." Sarah explained.

"Che" Remy scoffed "ya seriously think that with your skills you'd win anyway?" he sneered at them all "the only reason I joined dis club was that it looked fun, I had fun doing it but to be truthful it wasn't that hard at all. Y'all act as if winnin' is d' only t'ing dat matters, ya make me sick." He turned his back on the group and walked out of the practice room, pausing slightly by the door, but not bothering to turn and face them as he said "I hope ya realise, that the only person who could actually perform the acrobatic moves you need to win, is currently walking out of the door." Without another word to his former team mates, Remy left, kicking a few things over when he was out of eyesight and earshot.

Back in the practice room the team stood frozen. "He's right." Sarah gasped "none of us have the same flexibility or agility, we just...we just destroyed out only hope of winning..."

Remy stored furiously down the street unaware of the trail of pink energy that was collecting upon the street every time his feet hit the concrete. "Damn dem..." he muttered under his breath, ignoring the tears that were stinging his eyes, ready to fall "Damn dem..." a loud explosion shocked Remy and the backlash of energy shot him off of his feet. Pushing himself up Remy stared wide eyes at the devastation in the street. 'Did...I do dat?' he wondered before realising that he was standing amongst the havoc ridden street, he vaulted onto the nearest fire escape, to make sure he wasn't blamed for the devastation (even though he was fairly sure he did do it) and made his way from the fire escape to the roof of that building. He couldn't believe the damage he had done, half of the pavement was destroyed and the rest was cracked and chipped, not wanting to wait around to see more of the destruction he had caused, Remy took a memorised rooftop path all the way back to the thieves guild. Cursing himself for forgetting his key, Remy waited for the door to open, his eyes once again stinging with unshed tears. It only took a second after him opening the door for Henri to recognise how upset Remy was, the older brother immediately pulled the younger one into his arms and held him close, waiting for the inevitable. And sure enough Remy began to cry, telling Henri everything, all about the strange powers, and his teammates betrayal, how he didn't want to marry Belladonna, and most of all his fear that their father had only adopted him so that he could marry Belle. Henri listened and didn't interrupt, and when he was sure his little brother was finished he promptly whacked him over the head.

"Ow!" Remy whined, a childish pout appearing upon his face "What was dat for!"

Henri continued to rub his fist forcibly into his younger brother's hair "_Tu es completement debile_, Remy!" he snapped and continued to noogie the younger boy "ya t'ink dat if Père jus wanted dat he would'a adopted you? Dat he would'a cared for you like his own son? Non! If he jus' wanted ya ta' marry dat fille den' he never would'a adopted you, idiot! He adopted you cos' he saw ya needed a family, because he wanted to be ya Père! I never want ta' hear ya say somet'in so stupid again!"

Henri released his brother and stood up. "well, are ya comin' ta train wit' me, or are ya jus' gonna sit dere lookin' stupid?"

Remy blushed angrily and chased after his brother who simply grinned cheekily and ran out of the room "Henri!" he shouted as he chased after the older boy "when I get my hands on you ya' so dead!"

As the brothers ran they didn't notice Jean-Luc and Remus watching them with a smile of their faces.

"It's nice to see him not worrying about his power." Remus admitted out loud.

"Not fer' long though." Jean-Luc sighed, he ran a hand over his face the circles under his eyes a testament to the worry he felt for his youngest child. "Any luck wit' dat man you talked about?"

Remus brightened "He's an extremely busy man, and it was terribly difficult to get through to him, but once I explained the severity of Remy's case, he agreed to meet with him to help with controlling the energy."

"When?" was the sharp reply

"At least by the end of this week, he didn't give me a specific time or date, but with a man such as Charles Xavier, can you really expect him not to be the slightest bit eccentric?"

AN- I'm not particularly fond of this chapter; it didn't flow as well as the others and is therefore considerably shorter. However, I have come to a decision, and for the most part Remy won't be attending Hogwarts, at least not for a while, he might visit at some point but for now he won't be going.

_D'accord_- okay/ alright/agreed

_Je Promets- _I promise

_Tu es completement debile, Remy- _You are a complete moron, Remy


	10. The Professor

For years Charles Xavier had studied the mutant phenomenon, as a boy he himself had discovered his innate ability to make other do and believe whatever he wanted, simply by thinking it, for a time he had let that power consume him, until he realised the error of his ways, and made it his goal to guide other young mutants to controlling their abilities without those abilities controlling their actions. A long time ago he had decided that he would help anyone who asked for his aid, that's why he was flying out to New Orleans, his long time friend Ororo Munroe alongside him. The boy he was aiming to help was a child of only eleven years, an odd time to manifest mutant powers since usually they manifested at puberty, from the sound of it his powers had been active since his birth, making controlling them that much harder.

Upon their arrival at the specified address Ororo gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Professor, this is the Thieves Guild!" her eyes lit up as if her mind had been struck by an epiphany "What is the name of the child we are meeting?"

"Remy Lebeau." The professor replied, upon seeing her expression he queried "Does that name mean something to you?"

Ororo nodded, "If I am correct then the boy who we are aiding is the son of the patriarch of the guild."

The professor's face was stern "Never the less, we are here to help a child who is more than likely scared of what he can do, if left like this, there is no telling what extremes he might go through to gain some semblance of control." His eyes softened "We do not know the whole story Ororo, how can we judge him based upon who his parents may or may not be."

The white haired women seemed to sigh "I didn't mean it like that; I was just shocked that's all."

Upon knocking on the door, they were shown to what appeared to be the family room of the large mansion, considering the various photographs, most depicting two boys in particular, the youngest of them never going without a pair of dark sunglasses. The room itself was not one of the larger rooms in the mansion but the colour scheme and lighting was far from the kind one would expect form a headquarters of organised crime, rather it looked like a room that would be in any wealthy family home. Two sofas sat on either side of an oak coffee table, and upon further inspection, the large rug that covered the floor was clearly expensive, and appeared to be of Persian origin. On one side of the room was a large cabinet that was sealed, but the glasses on the shelf below it easily identified it as a liquor cabinet. From above the floor-length windows hung dark red curtains that were thick and plain, the sunlight shining through the large glass panes made the colour appear to glow, and cast oddly coloured light upon the floor. Upon the larger of the two sofa's sat two men, the man sitting across from them was well built, but not overly so, he had tanned skin and long brown hair, tied at the nape of his neck, his eyes were narrowed at them as if perceiving any possible threat to his family. The man sitting next to him was young but had several dashes of grey hair, as well as several scars across his face; his eyes were the oddest shade of amber.

"Professor Xavier." The amber eyed man said "Thank you so much for agreeing to help Remy."

The man smiled his blue eyes lighting up "It is no trouble, I will do everything I-" he was interrupted by a loud scream and thundering of feet followed by a red-haired boy running into the room.

His eyes were wide and he seemed to be looking for a place to hide. He was interrupted by another boy, literally soaring through the doorway and drop-kicking him. The boy in question had dark red- almost black hair and was currently sitting on the red-head, forcing the younger boy's face into the Persian rug.

"What have I told ya Emil!" he yelled, loosening his grip slightly while he was talking, the red-head took advantage and shoved the other boy off of him, landing a kick to his legs, sweeping them out from under him.

"Ha! You'll have ta' do better den dat cousin!" he replied cheekily

The man and woman looked at each other questioningly, staring at the brawling cousins. The man who Xavier assumed to be Jean-Luc sighed, and rose from the russet coloured settee; he grabbed each boy in either hand and held them up by the scruff of their shirts.

"What da hell're you boys fightin' 'bout now?" he fixed them both with a stern look "can't ya tell we got guests! What da ya t'ink ya doin' actin' like dat'!"

Both looked abashed, but the taller of the two began to defend himself. "Emil was eatin' cookies before dinner _Père_!"

Emil scoffed "So what? I always do, Remy!"

"Ya' gonna ruin ya appetite!" Remy snapped "I haven't slaved away cookin' food ta' perfection jus' so ya' can spoil ya appetite and not eat it!"

"Dat's why we have a microwave, Remy! I can re-heat it later!"

Remy saw red "Re-heat?" he hissed "Remy Lebeau does not cook T.V dinners!" He struggled within his father's grip trying to reach the boy, but Jean-Luc's hold was too strong.

"Tais-toi!" the man snapped "De both'a ya! Emil go tell Tante Mattie what ya done, and don' ya dare lie!" he dropped the other boy who had paled dramatically at the mention of Mattie, and turned to leave, running as fast he could wailing about a spoon. Jean-Luc set his son down and fixed him with a stern gaze. "You best' apologise ta dose people right dere, Remy. Dey promised ta help ya and ya just bein' rude!"

Remy looked down at his feed abashed before looking up, surprising the two mutants with his eyes "Sorry for bein' so rude." he then took a seat by his father.

"Hello Remy." Xavier smiled "My name is Charles Xavier, and this is my friend Ororo Munroe, we're mutants, just like you."

Remy narrowed his demonic looking eyes at them "Really?" He suddenly felt an odd sensation that he didn't like at all and heard the bald man's voice in his head, _you're not the only on with gifts._

Remy's eyes were wide; the man was in his head! Get out get out get out! With a spark of static and an offset of the pink energy he somehow managed to push the man from his mind.

"Extraordinary!" Xavier breathed, "What was once an open book to read is now nothing but static! Your powers are truly fascinating Remy."

"Dey're not fascinating! Dey're nothin' but a burden! It's because 'a dem dat my eyes look like dis! I hate it! Everywhere I go everyone who sees's 'em jus see's a _Diable_ in a child's body! Dey're scared and dey hate me because 'a it!" tears ran down his young face "an' dere's dis energy dere's so much dat it explodes and bows stuff up, I can't control it, it just does it on its own!" he cried softly "I hate it!"

Xavier's expression was filled with sympathy; he looked at the boy and then turned to his father "Would it be possible to spend a week observing Remy's powers? In all my years I haven't seen any quite like them; it is possible that there may be several aspects that need to be assessed before we can start work on controlling them."

Jean-Luc bent down and picked Remy up hugging the boy before telling him to find his brother. When the boy left, Jean-Luc sighed. "Dat's fine, I'll have a couple rooms set up. Remy's powers...he's got quite a few." He sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. "I didn't think much of it at first but he's unnaturally agile, ya saw how he jumped Emil, he does stuff like dat as if it's second nature, even de most skilled of us here don't have de same reflexes as Remy does..." he paused "I assume ya know who ya dealin' wit?"

Ororo smiled "Have you forgotten me already, Jean-Luc Lebeau?"

Jean-Luc blinked "Stormy?"

The white haired woman bristled angrily "I told you not to call me that!"

Jean Luc laughed "It's been years..."

She sighed "I've moved on from that life, I chose a more honest life for myself."

"Nothin' wrong with our work, _Chere_, and we're plenty honest." The man defended

She sighed, deciding that a change in topic would be appropriate. "I was shocked when I learnt the name of the boy we came to help; I did not know you had children."

"Oui, two boys, Henri and Remy, Henri is de eldest." He pointed to a photograph of the two of them sitting on the wooden coffee table next to her, it showed the two of them, Remy looked around seven or eight, he was sat on top of his brother's shoulders, hiding the older boy's eyes and laughing. It was the one picture where he had no sunglasses, but he had his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Has he always been so self-conscious about his eyes?" the professor asked

"Not always, but recently he got kicked off of his gymnastics team because of dem, dey told him dey couldn't win because de judges wouldn't favour dem because of his eyes." He sighed "after dat he refused ta take off de glasses for a week, it got better though, Emil had ta annoy de hell out'a him but he got over it soon enough."

"You mentioned that the energy itself is uncontrollable, and you have also told us about his physical prowess, it is possible that his powers have enhanced both his agility and reflexes, I think that it would be prudent to look into the physical cause of the mutation, because of his eyes it is possible that there may be another side affect quite possibly to do with his brain or the way that it functions. Would you agree to coming to my facility with Remy? We have all the equipment that is needed to assess his powers; I would also like to perform several scans, showing the makeup of Remy's brain. I suspect that this energy might be the result of a mutation on his brain, possibly an expansion or simply a different set up, but I imagine the former because of the physical mutation, it would take two or three days, and we can return here afterward, where I will continue to observe his power."

Jean-Luc frowned not liking the idea, but if it helped his son then he would do what was necessary.

"if it's gonna help Remy den go ahead and take de scans, it'll have t' wit for a couple days though, Remy's school don't let out for another two days."

"Of course." Was the blue eyed man's response, "if I may ask, have you noticed any signs of mutation in Henri? It is possible that the gene may have passed onto him."

Jean-Luc shook his head "Non, Remy was adopted when he was five, I don' know who his birth parents are so I couldn't tell ya' about that either, as far as I can tell Henri hasn't ever shown signs of anythin' like what Remy can do."

This seemed to pique the professor's interest "When did he develop the physical mutation? Was it a recent development?"

Jean-Luc frowned "Remy's eyes been like dat since he was born, dey've never been a different colour."

"Amazing!" The professor exclaimed "Typically the mutant genes surface during puberty, for Remy to have his mutation from birth is truly incredible."

"Will dis be a problem?" Jean-Luc queried "will dis stop him gainin' control?"

The professor smiled "I like to believe that no power in uncontrollable, your son will be safe, I will do everything in my power to help him."

The professor and Ororo had been staying at the mansion for two days; they had followed Remy around, talked to him and questioned him to the point where it was driving him crazy. During his sparring sessions the professor had begun writing rapidly in his notebook and had taken several reading on a handheld device that Remy had no clue as to the purpose of it. When he had one of his episodes, the professor had been able to stem the explosion using his telekinesis, shocking both Remy, and Remus who had been there at the time. While he knew that it was all for his own benefit, Remy couldn't help but feel utterly frustrated with the situation. Despite himself, he had been hoping that learning control of his abilities would be a quick fix, they would tell him what to do and he'd do it then they'd be gone. He mentally kicked himself for thinking like that. He knew it would take time; he just hated feeling so helpless.

Remy sighed, and stared out of the window, all he could see know was part of the plan's wing and clouds. His father and he were travelling with the two mutants to New York where Xavier's facility was. They wanted to take scans and do tests; Remy wasn't looking forward to it at all. On top of all of this there was still the issue of the letter that seemed to burn in his pocket. After receiving the first letter and subsequently exploding it by accident several others had come, but the one he was currently interested in was from a school in France. Unlike the other two schools whose letters simply informed him that he had a place at them if he wished to join, the letter for Beauxbatons academy of magic actually included a pamphlet explaining the school, its teachers, the curriculum and to some extent the wizarding world. There was also the fact that from what he had understood about wizarding Brittan, from Remus' stories, was the fact that it was prejudice. Beauxbatons was well known for accepting anyone and everyone who had the talent, be they muggleborn, half-blood, pureblood, or even part magical creature. If they could perform magic, speak the language and afford to attend, they would be welcome.

He knew it was stupid to keep his acceptance from his family, Tante Mattie had already called him a 'damn fool' and then told him that they wouldn't care that he had magic, but he still felt a little bitter about both his father and Remus keeping his heritage away from him, as well as more than a little ashamed that he couldn't even control his mutant powers, how on earth would he handle magical ones?

He sighed once more, and looked up at his father. "_Père_?" he asked, in a smaller voice than he can ever remember using.

"_Oui_?" Jean-Luc responded sleepily

"Am I..." he broke of tears stinging his vision, but he stubbornly ignored them "do ya' mind that I've got dese weird powers?" his voice choked slightly "I know dat dey're freaky but-"

Jean Luc abruptly hugged him, something that despite his affection for both his sons, he very rarely did. "You fool boy, o' course I don' care. You're _mon fils_ I love you no matter what Remy. Jus' 'cause ya not mine biologically don' mean ya' not got a place in my heart, I chose ya' ta be my son, dat should speak for its self dat I care." He sighed "I know about da magic too."

Remy froze, and stared up at his father in shock, he was about to speak but was interrupted by Jean-Luc.

"I know me an' Remus should'a told ya' earlier, but ya' were so freaked out about da' powers, dat I didn't want ta shock ya' even more, if ya want ta go to de magic school den ya can, if ya don't then you don't have to." He looked down at his son and smiled, placing his hand on the top of the boy's messy hair. "you really don' give me too much credit Remy, I might be an old man to you but I'm still da patriarch of de t'ieve's guild, I can still sneak around better den you!"

Remy's jaw was slack in shock, he closed in hurridly and blushed a shocking red "oh yeah? Well I bet I'll be better den ya soon! Ya won' be mockin' me when I become a master t'ief!"

Jean Luc laughed heartily "Remy, it takes most me thirty years ta become a master t'ief!"

Remy's jaw set in determination "I'll do it in five!" he exclaimed his eyes burning ferociously.

"I'll tell ya what, if you actually manage to do it I'll by you whatever ya want, whatever da cost." Jean Luc grinned, self assured that Remy would never reach the title 'Master Thief' at sixteen.

Remy grinned manically "if I do it, you have ta' buy me a motorcycle, whatever one I want!"

Jean-Luc laughed heartily, playing along with the eleven-year-old "Sure Remy."

Remy grinned, and sat back in his seat, thinking over the brands and styles and colours, of motorcycles, he paused briefly in his dreaming. 'I wonder if I should have told Père that Vincent said I could take my tilling already?' he dismissed the thought as quickly as it came 'He would never have agreed otherwise' the red-eyes boy smiled and laid his head back on his seat, content to nap until they landed.

_Tais-toi - Shut up_

_Mon fils- My son_

_Père- Dad_

_Oui- yes_

_Chere- honey or dear _


	11. A Missing Name

In his short life Remy Lebeau had come to understand three vital points. First; Henri was crazy about Mercy, second; Belladonna was just plain crazy, and third; hospitals, even private ones, were the most horrible places on earth. Now it wasn't just the tests and the poking and prodding, it was everything. He hated the smell the vibe and even the way that the air tasted. Everything was blindingly white, to the point where he was now unsure if there was such a thing as colour, and the air reeked of disinfectant, to the point of burning his nose and throat with every breath he took.

The air felt heavy and hot, pressure ringing in his ears as if he had been engulfed by a wave, and was sinking into deep water. There weren't any windows so the only light was blinding and artificial. He hated it. Whenever the professor wanted to do another scan, he would have to wait around wearing the thin patient's scrubs, his bare feet padding upon the cool floor. Apprehension swirled in his stomach like a hurricane before and after each test, his arms were so riddled with holes he was surprised he had any blood left in his body.

Sighing, Remy shuffled his feet, curling his toes and staring at the floor from his uncomfortable position upon a plastic chair. His father and the professor were talking, he didn't know about what but he knew it was important. He hated being left out of the loop. A devilish smile sprung across his face, he surveyed the corridors of the underground medical facility and grinned. There was no one around! Running at a speed that was much faster than a normal boy his age should be able to run at, Remy bounded up the stairs, finding himself in the main mansion. He scratched the back of his head in a half hazard manner, trying to remember his way to wherever the professor's office was, when he heard a young girl's voice.

He spun around and noticed a pretty girl with bright red hair and dark green eyes, she seemed to be a year older than him (but Remy had always looked older than he was); she stared at him for a while before repeating her question. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"_Bonjour, Chere_." He smiled winningly, desperately hoping not to get caught "I was just lookin' for de professor's office, don't suppose ya know de way?"

She blushed a furious red, for some reason, unbeknown to Remy, whenever he complimented girls or smiled at them just right they seemed to blush and be nice to him, he guessed it must just be some girl thing, they were weird like that.

"Um...yeah, just...just follow me!" her voice squeaked a little at the end, and she was still blushing the same colour as her bright hair. He followed her at a leisurely pace keeping a charming smile on his face but inside he was terrified. He wanted to know what was going on but his father had told him to wait in the medical bay, he hoped that the girl would hurry up, and that he wouldn't get caught by anyone.

"Red?" a gruff voice called "what are you doing up here?"

"Damn." He cursed under his breath.

"And who are you, punk?" the man growled, his hair was dishevelled and black, and his face was covered in stubble. He narrowed his dark eyes at the boy and surprisingly...sniffed him.

"Hey!" Remy complained "What de hell're ya doin!"

"You're that swamp boy the professor's taken in." He stated narrowing his eyes further. "What are you doing up here with Jean?"

"I was just lookin, dat's all. No harm in lookin'." He said his expression completely innocent.

"You're lyin' punk, what you doin here?" the man raised his fist threateningly, actually making Remy jump when three metal claws pushed their way out of the skin of his knuckles. "Red, you get goin', go get the professor." The small girl looked like she wanted to protest but did as she was told. "Jean's a good kid, punk, she don't need you messin' with her." Identical claws shot out of his other fist, he glared at Remy. "You just gonna stand there? Got nothin' ta say for yourself?"

Remy flipped backwards in an impressive display of gymnastics, kicking the man twice under his jaw as he did so. He turned his body in mid air and landed on his feet upon the banister of the stair case, perfectly balanced, his fists at the ready. "I say; shut de hell up!" his red eyes burning with fury, this stupid guy just pops out of nowhere and stops him finding out what his father and the professor are talking about. Just as Remy's anger began to increase, a loud cough broke the glaring match between him and the man. Remy quickly jumped down from the banister as he saw his father and the professor staring at him and the man disapprovingly.

"Remy, what de hell're ya doin? Jumpin' around in someone else's house!" his father scolded.

"He started it!" Remy protested, pouting and pointing his finger at the gruff looking man.

"Logan, may I ask why you deemed it necessary to attack a child, not to mention a child who is our guest here?"

"The Cajun was sneakin' around, and using Jean as a guide." He mumbled, not quite meeting the bald man's eyes.

"Nevertheless that is no reason to attack Remy."

Logan sighed "I gotcha, Charles." He walked away shaking his head.

"Remy, didn't I tell ya ta wait down stairs." Jean Luc scolded

Remy shuffled his bare feet. "I just wanted ta know what's goin on, dats all. _Je suis désolé, Père_, I didn't mean ta cause trouble, I never do! Trouble jus' seems to follow me! "

Jean-Luc laughed slightly, but his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil, how could he tell his son?  
For the better part of an hour, the professor explained what Remy's 'gift' was and how it worked, or at least, how he believed that it worked. He showed Jean-Luc Remy's brain scan, and how Remy had more lobes on his brain that normal, one of these lobes was working too much, producing much more energy than normal, more than Remy could handle, resulting in the excess of energy that Remy had. The professor had told him that one way to stop it would be to remove part of the lobe, but and would require major surgery. The other way was for the professor to place a psychic block around the lobe, restricting the amount of energy that it let out, so that instead of all of it exploding out all of the time, this block would act as a tap, one that Remy could open and close by will. He sighed, and sat down beside his son, explaining everything. There were tears and frustration, but in the end Remy looked up at the man with a shinning and hopeful expression and gave his consent for the professor to enter his mind.

Remy laid back on the table in the medical bay, the professor's hands on his head, it was a terribly uncomfortable experience, and in a few placed he winced in pain, but by the end he could feel the difference. The power danced over his fingertips begging to be used, rather than flowing out of his body uncontrollably. He somehow knew how to 'charge' things as he began to mentally refer to it, by instinct alone. He practiced with a few pieces of paper, grinning happily as he could control it.

"This isn't some quick fix Remy." The professor warned "you'll need to train every day, practice all of your powers not just the 'charging' as you call it. I will visit you every month, to see how you have progressed and to help you use your powers, in the mean time, I want you to practice as often as you can, know the limits of your abilities and strive to improve your control." He stared into the boy's eyes "Can you promise me this?"

Remy smiled widely "I promise professor. Thank you!"

The professor smiled "You are very welcome."

The flight back to New Orleans was delayed by several hours. Once finally on the plane and high in the sky, Remy was sound asleep, pressed against his father's shoulders, his face so young in sleep. His reddish hair hung over his closed eyes, and his knee's cuddled to his chest. Jean Luc sighed. He can remember the ties when Remy would beg for a bedtime story, and know his boy was growing up, mixed up in magic and mutants; he couldn't help but feel guilty that he couldn't protect his youngest son. Remy slept the entire flight, and when they landed Jean-Luc simply lifted the boy into his arms and carried him to the car that was waiting for them.

The rumble of an engine and the patter of rain against glass woke Remy up; he rubbed the sleep from the red orbs, and looked around curiously. "Where's da plane?"

Jean-Luc chuckled "Ya slept the whole way, we're back home."

Remy smiled, and closed his eyes again. He did love New Orleans, it was his home. Everything about the city was like heaven to him, even its dirtiest street. He could still vaguely remember a brick house in a neighbourhood of mirror image houses, he could remember that horse-faced woman and her pigs, but those memories were like a strange dream where animals could talk and wear clothes, for surely they were more animal than man. But the city, its sights and sounds soothed his soul, in a way that he could only describe as a sense of belonging, the Cajun twang in people's accents, and the slang that seemed so odd to others, even in a different part of New Orleans. The mansion was filled with other thieves, but one part of it was reserved for the patriarch and his family only, it was like a house within a mansion. Home to him was the city of New Orleans, with its jazz clubs and restaurants, home was the smell of Cajun cooking and black coffee. His home was the thieves' guild, and nothing would change that.

As he drifted into sleep, Remy couldn't help but wonder what it would be like in France if he went to Beauxbatons. Would he still have that sense of belonging? He wondered what magic would be like to learn, and how he was going to keep normal school studies along with the magic ones. He wondered how his Tilling would go and weather he would pass and become a full thief. His mind clouded and he began to fall asleep, dreaming of magic.

The torchlight from within the headmaster's office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry flickered a gentle orange, casting large shadows upon everything. Seated in a large throne like chair, with one hand supporting his chin, was one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, a man who appeared to be well over a hundred years old, with very long white hair, and a long white beard that was quite scraggly and could be tucked into a belt (if one were so inclined to do so). The ancient figure sat so still, that if it weren't for the fact that his eyes were flitting back and forth across a page, it would be within reason to believe him a colourfully painted statue. Amongst the mass of bric-a-brac that covered his desk sat a list of upcoming students for the new school term. There were names he recognised and new names that were obviously muggleborns, but nowhere on the list was there a Harry Potter.

It had been a gambit, he had to admit. Leaving the young boy on the doorstep of his muggle family, but he had no choice. The prophecy had clearly stated that only the equal of the dark lord could defeat him. And the only way he could ensure that the young Potter would stay that equal, and not be tainted by arrogance and his own legend, would be to have the child grow up in much the same way as Tom Riddle. Both were half bloods after all, both had dark hair and light skin, their appearances surprisingly similar, if Harry grew up similarly to tom, then he would surely understand him better, and by default, he would be able to defeat him 'as an equal'. Of course, he knew that to manipulate the child's life was something dreadful but it had to be done, he could not sacrifice the happiness of one boy over an entire nation, it was for the greater good after all. He inwardly winced, mentally slapping himself for slipping into the temptation of the old ways. The similar days with his friend-and sometimes lover- Gellert Grindelwald- when the both of them had been simple dreamers, imagining a world where everything was, by their own judgement, so much better. The two of them believed themselves gods, the power that they wielded was so intoxicating and above that of a mere average wizard that it was impossible for them to be anything other than superior! All those delusions had soon faded with the death of his sister. He realised that in his pursuit of superiority, he had forgotten that it didn't matter whether he was more powerful or not, the pursuit of power for powers sake was worthless without the need to protect something. He had begun his pursuit in hopes of being able to defend his family, but he had gotten so caught up in the rush that it gave him, and his love for his friend that he hadn't realised just how blind the power had made him. It was then that he swore to protect everyone he could from having to suffer because of his mistakes. Despite his love, he had defeated his best friend, who was imprisoned for the rest of his days; his magic suppressed, and without chance of ever being released. When tom riddle began his own pursuit of power Albus Dumbledore realised just how foolish he had been, he couldn't expect the ideals that he had Gellert had created just to disappear, and now it was thanks to him that this boy had become so immersed in the addiction to his own power and the perverse forms of dark magic, that he had lost what little grasp of sanity that he had clutched to in that orphanage. People were dying because of his childhood stupidity. He had to stop it, any way he could.

Upon hearing that one of two baby boys would be the only ones able to defeat tom, Dumbledore despaired, how would he redeem himself if these boy were the only one able to defeat the monster he had become?

Albus sighed, rubbing his eyes under his half moon spectacles "I've done it again, haven't i? My short sightedness has resulted in our doom." He could only hope that Harry Potter would be found, the boy was the only one able to stop Tom, and he would have to, even if that meant that Dumbledore would have to struggle and connive, the lives of the entire wizarding world were more important than that of one boy. He felt remorse, and guilt but overall he was determined that his own crimes would finally be accounted for, if Harry managed to defeat Voldemort, then everything would finally be over.

_AN- This chapter was particularly difficult to write, I tried to come up with a logical cause for Dumbledore manipulating Harry, rather than him just being inherently evil and out to get Harry. I'm unsure about going into complete detail about every year at Beauxbatons, what do you think? Should I do each year? I know for certain that Remy will be a part of the Beauxbatons delegation when they go to Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. Please review and let me know. _

_Bonjour, Chere- hello dear _

_Je suis désolé, Père- I'm sorry dad _


	12. La Rue Magique and The Gargantuan Boy

In what appeared to be a small back alley to anyone but the magical community, was the entrance to_ La Rue Magique_. A shopping district for the magically inclined, located in Bourbon Street. Not many knew of its existence, and it was rare for anyone other than an American magic user to know of its existence. The American magical government was closely linked with its muggle counterpart, and as such, whenever a magical child was sent their school letters, they would also be sent a letter from both governments, the magical one providing information on the nearest shopping district, as they were only located in the larger populated cities, and from the muggle government, they were offered the chance to pursue their muggle education in their free time, as well as attending a summer school. Remy had already met with the headmistress of Beauxbatons, and strangely enough, the school did offer a course called 'Muggle Studies' which was actually a course for muggleborns, who wanted to continue their muggle education, in which they could carry on learning Maths, English, Science and the like. Despite the fact that the course was not as detailed as regular muggle education, taking it would enable him to stay on top of his studies, until he returned home for the holidays; Jean-Luc had hired a tutor for him.

_La Rue Magique_ was not quite what Remy had been expecting, he had o admit, he had imagined it to look somewhat like a regular street, but what he was met with was an old fashioned street, looking like something out of the 1700's. All of the shops had the same basic design, with large wooden overhead signs that were painted a myriad of colours, with calligraphic writing, mostly in old English font style. The hustle and bustle of the street was quite impressive for something that had once appeared to be nothing but some small back alley, hundreds of oddly dressed people lined the streets, market sellers looking like characters from story books, selling items that Remy didn't even know existed, strange cloths and jewels and other riches from far off countries. There were stalls where the teller would call out the prices of ingredients, so strange that it was a complete culture shock. What were those things over there? And why was dragon liver being sold? Dragons were real! So many questions burned into Remy's mind, itching to be asked. Remus had accompanied them to the alley, as you had to have a wand to be able to enter; the three of them had entered the local branch of Gringotts Wizarding bank, and had set up an account for Remy, converting a considerable sun of muggle money into wizarding currency.

A few weeks ago, Remy had passed his Tilling, and became a full-time thief, a working member of the guild, and he had the small black tattoo of the guild symbol on the inside of his right wrist to prove it. He was a prodigy, the youngest thief ever to join the guild, and he loved teasing his father and brother because of it.

_An excited apprehension hung around the young thief as he crouched atop the rafters of the renovated house. He had been looking forward to this moment for years. He was finally going to become a proper thief! The ground below him was covered in a lattice of red beams, the technology looking out of place in the old house. The recently renovated building was home to some celebrity who wanted to present an air of civility and class by living in an outwardly historic home, whilst the original insides bar the wooden rafters which were necessary to support the house, had been stripped and gutted to the point where it was no longer recognisable as a piece of historical architecture. The particular rich resident of the abomination of a 'modern' home, housed many priceless objects that were brought for the sake of buying, to be looked at once, possessed, and never to be looked at again. Remy was here to steal one item; a small jade Qilin statue. The small statue of a mythical Chinese animal was about the size of a baseball and was worth millions. Remy had received the case file months ago; it detailed the alarms system of the house, its defences and also had pages detailing the object itself, its exact size and weight. It had taken a while but Remy had commissioned for a replica to be made out of resin, the exact size and weight of the statue, not bothering to have it carved perfectly, he made sure that its colour was perfect, and at first glance, you could have never known the difference. _

_Remy took a deep breath and jumped to the next rafter, staying still for a moment to make sure he wouldn't fall, before jumping to the next one. He repeated the process until he had reached the final beam, and silently cursed when he saw that he was too far from the jade statue. The belt around Remy's waist had two holsters on either thigh, as was typical of every guild uniform. Remy pulled a cord from a part of the belt, the cord clipped to the belt tightly; he tied it around the beam. The attachment of the holsters and belt acted as a harness so that a thief might descend slower and more efficiently that just using a rope. Remy descended carefully, and placed either foot in between the light beams, he carefully unclipped the cord, and let it hang there, as he would need it later. _

_Remy grinned, silently grateful that he had taken gymnastics, and pulled himself into a handstand, in the next section of space between the light beams, carefully, he arched his back and put his feet back down, while still having his hand in the previous section of space. He was glad Emil wasn't here; he'd probably make fun of him. Remy repeated the same gymnastic pattern, finding it incredibly easy to do, and grinned when he realised that he was in front of the subject of his thievery. From a secure pouch at the back of his belt, Remy took out the replica Qilin, and gently eased the original away from the white plinth it sat on and quickly but carefully set the fake in its place. Remy breathed out a sigh of relief and calmly secured the jade Qilin into the pouch, and after double checking to make sure that it wouldn't fall out, he repeated his gymnastic movement, and returned to the cord hanging from the rafter, he re-attached it, and pressed the button on the side of the attachment, and the cord reeled itself in, taking Remy with it. Remy turned carefully, and jumped from rafter to rafter until he reached the one he had begun at, the same one where his brother sat, a proud grin on the elder Lebeau's face. _

A hand fell onto Remy's shoulder making him jump, and pulling him out of his thoughts. He smiled when he saw it was his father.

"Remus said dat he would be buying your books and potions kit, we should probably get ya uniforms first, den go ta get a wand, we'll meet wit' Remus at de wand store." He blinked a few times "I can't believe I actually jus' said 'wand store', I swear Remy, life sure is more interestin' wit you around." He chuckled lightly.

Remy grinned "I can' believe dat you actually doubted I would pass my Tilling."

Jean Luc groaned "Ahhh, stop goin on 'bout it! Jus' 'cause ya passed don' mean dat ya gonna become a Master any time soon!"

Remy just grinned cheekily, both father and son slowing their pace as they read the sign, Adelaide Marcel's Quality Robes, despite the rather plain name in contrast to the blooming alley, the robes in the windows truly did look to be of good quality, and this was also the only place in the alley that made uniforms for each magic school, specifically the only place in Louisiana that you could buy robes for Beauxbatons. Upon pushing open the large-windowed rosewood door, a bell rang, alerting the proprietor of their entry.

A woman who looked to be in her mid-forties smiled, her white-blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, without a single strand out of place, she wore a dress that appeared to have come from the previous century, as well as a bright green robe, the sleeves long and sweeping, reminding Remy of kimono sleeves.

"Hello!" she said brightly "What can I help you gentlemen with?" the oddest thing about the woman was the fact that she had a distinctly Irish accent.

"_Mon fils_, here needs a set of uniforms for Beauxbatons." Jean Luc informed her, his eyes narrowed, as if perceiving any possible threat to his son.

"Alright then!" she chirped cheerfully, her eyes widening only briefly as she saw Remy's eyes, but seemed to immediately ignore them. She ushered the boy towards a stool and told him to stand up on it, she waved her wand and roll of cloth flew through the air and into her hands. After placing the cloth onto a workbench she summoned several pieces of clothing. "Here" she said, dropping the pile into his arms. "These look about your size, just pop behind the curtain and put them on; we'll tailor them to fit you in a jiffy."

The Beauxbatons uniform consisted of a sky blue silk shirt with a dark navy blue tie, the school crest stitched on in gold embroidery thread, and dark grey suit trousers with a tailed grey waistcoat, the coattails reaching to the middle of the thigh, there was also a navy blue winter cloak lined in white fur, the fastenings miniature versions of the golden school crest. It took about half the time that a muggle tailor would have taken to get the clothes tailored correctly, after that, the woman simply did a quick spell to make the other five sets of the uniform the right size.

Because of the small size of the business, the robes cost far less than they would have had they ordered then directly from the school, or from a well known robe shop. Adelaide wrapped up the uniforms and bid them farewell.

Receiving his wand was one of the most surreal experiences, the moment that it touched his skin, he knew that it was worth the wait. He had tried countless other wands, none of them seeming to do anything but make things wobble, his wand was twelve inches long, made from deep black Ebony wood with a phoenix tail feather core, as he swished the wand, feeling rather foolish as he did so, a tirade of red and pink sparks shot from the wand, a warm comforting feeling rose up his arm, he didn't want to let the wand go, it felt right to hold it.

It was only a few weeks before he was scheduled to leave for his new school, when Remy first had doubts. It wasn't the fact that it was in France, he could speak the language well enough; it wasn't even that it was a magic school, it was the fact that it was a boarding school that he would be attending, that truly had the boy worried. For almost as long as he could remember, Remy had never been away from his family for more than a few days, and even then he was still in the same town. He'd never been away from home without either Jean-Luc or Henri, or even Remus and Tante Mattie. He had known Emil, Henri and Etienne for so long, and saw them so often, that it hadn't occurred to him that he wouldn't go to school with them anymore, that he and Emil wouldn't play pranks on each other, or that Henri wouldn't be there to tease him, or comfort him depending on the situation.

Remy could remember the first time he had ever travelled. It wasn't the clearest memory, in fact he remembered very little from the time before Jean-Luc adopted him. But he still remembered enough, of the abuse and neglect, of the taunts and teases of the time before he had been a Lebeau, from the time he was a small boy named Harry Potter.

It had been so long since he had heard that name, and so long since he had not been the charismatic and charming thief he was now, that he often forgot that he had ever been called anything other than 'Remy'. But when he had bumped into a rather portentous porpoise of a boy with more blubber than he had thought possible to be attached to any living creature without their bones cracking from the strain of supporting such weight, and matted dirty-blonde hair thick with grease that could only come to being after eating a ridiculously unhealthy diet for a very long time and possessing terribly poor personal hygiene.

The boy was currently stuffing his large and repugnant face with a XXL double cheeseburger. "Watch it!" he spat, managing to cover Remy's previously clean face in both spittle and soggy bits of bread and beef. The grotesque boy's accent was unmistakeably foreign, and one that it took a while for him to recognise as English.

Remy, feeling more than a little repulsed and annoyed calmly told the boy to wait until his mouth was empty to talk, to avoid spraying unsuspecting victims with undigested food. Now the repulsively boorish British boy, with more fat attached to his rather unimpressively short frame that most grossly overweight adults, took offense to that and charged forward with all the grace of a bull in a china shop (if that bull had been morbidly obese, that is) and promptly fell flat of his fat face, his humongous body squashing the cheeseburger, and his head hitting the pavement. The sad thing was that Remy hadn't even moved, the boy's legs were too large for him to run and he had tripped himself up.

The boy closely resembled a beached whale, flapping about and unable to move. The gargantuan boy flapped his arms, flailing helplessly, and trying to get up, his blimp-like boy reminded Remy of the balloon animals that clowns made at birthday parties. Remy felt truly embarrassed for the repulsive boy lying in front of him, when the boy, who couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve began to sob and cry, screaming for his Mummy.

Remy froze when a overly tall woman with twice the amount of normal neck, and a pinched and bony face rushed to the whale's side, and began fussing and screeching over him, pulling him to his feet, (with great difficulty and a lot of strain on her back) before turning to Remy. Screeching that he had 'obviously' tried to murder her 'poor darling diddy duddy dumpkins' harping on about how she had her husband were 'British we'll have you know!' and that they were above such 'crude yanks' so how dare he harm her 'poor Diddy-kins' who was so obviously a victim of hate-crime. Remy stood frozen in fear. It was the giraffe-woman from his nightmares, the woman he dreamt would take him away from his family when he was younger. He couldn't believe it was real. All those hazy memories were ripped to the forefront of his mind, and to his shame he found himself shaking. He stared at the woman through his dark glasses in disbelief, unable to speak or even move.

"what are ya' harpin' on about now, Dursley?" a feminine voice spat, in a wondrously familiar accent that was like music to Remy's ears. "Didn't we tell ya that ya in our country now? Ya think ya can jus' come over here and tell everyone how ta behave? How ta speak? I'll have you know dat dis boy here is worth ten o' your stupid fat bully of a son!"

Apparently this was an old argument, and judging by the look on the face of the middle aged woman who had defended him, one that was unlikely to come to any conclusion any time soon. The giraffe-woman simply sniffed and turned up her nose, her arm around the whale. "Your accent is ludicrous! You butcher our language, and what's more is that you participate in that utter nonsense! That voodoo palaver, you're a grown woman, you should be more like me, I've raised an upstanding citizen of a boy, and my husband is a true gentleman, you just wait until he comes back, he'll give you a good talking to about your disgraceful and unfounded attack on our son's character!"

The woman snorted "If your husband is such a 'gentleman' den why is he rotting in a cell? Oh! That's right; he's a child abuser! And 'upstanding citizen?' don't make me laugh, Dursley, your boy is nothin' but a liar, a bully and a delinquent!"

Remy was unable to move, his body still frozen as he stared wide-eyed at the woman of his nightmares, his eyes widening further at the news of what had become of his old tormentors.

"My Vernon is as innocent as a lamb! He never did anything to our nephew, you no good liar! The Only reason he is temporarily incarcerated is simply because all of you Americans are jealous of us!" giraffe-woman glared at the woman before turning her glare unto him. "Why are you still here brat? Go find some other poor child to pick on!"

Remy never looked back. He ran away and tried to rid himself of that terrible woman's face in his mind. He ran until his legs ached, he ran until he found himself sitting under a familiar tree. It was the very same tree that Etienne, Emil and he used to sit under every day at school, when they had attended that school that is. _Ensoleillé Elementary School _had closed a few years ago, there just weren't enough children to remain open and the budget for the school was ridiculously low, and it could no longer remain open. The building was derelict and empty, the old swing set rusty and unused, with its swings long ago wrapped around the bar by some kids who thought it was funny. The grass was overgrown and the playground empty. Remy found it ironically humorous that he had arrived at his old school, after encountering his neglectful relatives, and contemplating a change in his life.

He remembered every harsh word that had ever been directed towards him, and every time he had had to go without food. Every moment of neglect he had thought he'd forgotten was thrown back in his face. He hated it, absolutely loathed feeling so helpless, and he hated the fact that he had let himself remember. Remy heard the shuffling of feet and turned sharply, relaxing when he saw the familiar form of his best friend.

Emil said nothing as they sat beside him; they just waited for him to talk. He told him everything. About the neglect he had suffered as a child, about the whale and the giraffe, about the run-in with them and how angry he was, and how he didn't want to be that boy anymore. He refused to refer to himself by that name, he had forgotten it once, and he could do so again!

"Remy, you ain't that kid." Emil said softly, in rare serious tone. "Ya gotta understand, that boy don't exist no more. Ya my cousin Remy, not dat whale's. Ya got a Père who loves ya, and a big brother who would do anythin for ya and ya got a wondrous and amazingly handsome cousin. Not ta mention Tante Mattie, she'd whack anyone who tried hurting ya wit her spoon, nah, she'd pro'ly use a fryin' pan!" Emil grinned, and then grew serious again. "What I mean is, you'll be fine _frère_; ya got people lookin out for ya."

Remy smiled at his friend. Despite his normally annoying disposition, Emil was the most loyal person you could find. He knew when Remy was hurting, and in rare moments he sounded wiser than men thrice his age. Emil was the best friend anyone could hope for; he would truly miss him when he was at school.

"Emil, dere's dis school I've been accepted into, it's in France..."

_AN- this was a very difficult chapter to write, and I understand that the flashback sequence was quite farfetched and long, but like I said, it was an awkward one to write. What inspired me to write this was actually two reviewers who made my day! I was in the middle of a stage of writers block and didn't know what direction to take this in, when I got five reviews from _**Iris Musicia**_ and a very detailed review from _**Lady Avotil**_ who asked some very intriguing questions that got my thought process going and resulted in this chapter! I would like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed and a very special thank you to those two reviewers! =] _


	13. A Magical Education

Remy and Emil talked for what seemed like hours. Remy explained all about Beauxbatons, and not wanting to lie to his best friend, he told him about the magic too. Surprisingly Emil took it very well, he acted mature and level headed and although he expressed his disappointment at having Remy be away for so long. He also saw the benefit of being able to control these new powers, and knew just how afraid Remy was of not being able to control himself. As the two cousins talked, they made their way back to the guild, calmly enjoying the other's presence while it lasted.

Albus Dumbledore paced in his office, one hand clutching his chin the other resting on his hip, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on his hipbone. The cause of his nervousness was the lack of Harry Potter's name on the list of upcoming Hogwarts students. He had checked the list a dozen times and each time he looked there was no Harry Potter listed. The only way that his name would not show up would be if he were dead, of if he no longer used that name.

If he were dead, then there was no hope left for the wizarding world. The prophecy clearly stated (or at least it did so in Albus Dumbledore's opinion) that only Harry Potter would be able to defeat Lord Voldemort, and no other would be able to do so. He had to find whatever name the boy was using, he had to find the boy and bring him to Hogwarts, he would have to be prepared for the future, to be guided along the right path, and make the right friends; he couldn't become another Tom Riddle.

Of the entire list of names there was one in particular that caught Dumbledore's interest. For some time now, the magical world had been finding itself doing business with the Lebeau family, or so they introduced themselves as, who were able to procure the most difficult to find items, and were notorious for their ability to 'get the job done'. They quickly developed quite a client base, including several prominent pureblood families.

There were rumours of course, that they were just thieves, and none of them looked alike so it was unlikely that all of their names truly were 'Lebeau' so what was strange was that a boy with that name appeared upon the list of possible students, did that mean that he was a part of this business? Albus shook his white haired head, clearing himself of his curiosity, and set to work at the task at hand. He had to find Harry, everyone was depending on him to find the boy-who-lived, and he couldn't fail!

The first step would be to find the Dursley family, he knew that they had moved to America some few years ago, and that made the situation all the more difficult. The country was considerably larger than England and Scotland put together, if it came down to a search party, then it was unlikely that they would find them.

He had taken a few days off, away from his much needed preparations for the school year, to question the Dursley's former neighbours. The results were worrying.

_With several glamour charms that would only work on muggles, and an odd clothing transfiguration here or there, Professor Albus Dumbledore made his way into Privet Drive, looking very much the part of a respectable businessman. The woman who lived at number five told him very little other than that the family had inherited a large sum of money from Vernon Dursley's uncle, and had moved to the states. Mr. and Mrs. Number six on the other hand, painted a very different picture. _

_Mrs. Number six,( for it was quite true that despite his desire for equality in the wizarding world and the muggle world Dumbledore really hadn't the time of day to be remembering a muggle's name right now, especially when so much was at stake), poured some tea into a set of china cups, that while simple in design, were obviously expensive. She laid out the biscuits as she spoke. _

"_I don't know why you are so interested in them, sir, they left here nearly eight years ago now, dreadful bunch I assure you." she paused "Although, I feel sorry for that poor boy, why...I don't ever recall hearing the lad's name..." she clutched her cup closely "If I might speak plainly..."_

_Dumbledore nodded to her "By all means, madam."_

"_That poor boy hardly ever left the house, if he did, he was always doing some form of manual labour, far too much for a three year old child, and the things that they would shout at him..." she shivered and placed a hand over her mouth, closing her eyes tightly. Mr. Number six immediately wrapped his arm around his wife. The wife nodded her thanks and continued "it makes me feel sick that I never did anything, that I never told anyone until now, the abuse they would spout from their mouths... no child should ever be called such dreadful names...and the things they told him about his parents..."_

_Dumbledore's head snapped up, his eyes becoming dramatically more focused "His parents? What did they say?" _

_The woman choked back a sob. "I shan't repeat all the vulgar language involved but the gist of it tended to be that they were no good drunkards who got themselves killed in a car crash." She took a deep gulp of her tea "You don't say that to a child... or to anyone for that matter!"_

_The husband took over the tale "The Dursley's left the country soon after Vernon received the inheritance, the most I got out of them was that they would be living in the south, somewhere near Louisiana I think." _

_Dumbledore had researched as fully as he could, asking all the neighbours, and calling in favours in the ministry to track the Dursley's down, having to part with a large sum of gold too, and eventually discovered that the Dursley family had indeed moved to New Orleans, Louisiana._

Albus Dumbledore was troubled. He had assumed that Petunia would, at the very least, be merely indifferent towards her nephew. But all the signs led him to the belief that young Harry was severely neglected. The aged wizard sighed, and cradled his head in his hand while staring at the list of names of the new students once again. He was so fixed upon the small red-bound book, that he hardly noticed the presence of another person in the room. It was only after they politely cleared their throat, that he looked up. His bright blue eyes met with the stern steel gaze of Minerva McGonagall.

"You have been cooped up in this office for the past few days, Albus." She reprimanded "It is unlike you to ignore your duties as headmaster."

Albus sighed, "I have searched every possible lead I could think of, I went to the neighbourhood, and the Dursley family have moved away, I set up a correspondence with the American ministry, and they have no wizard of the same age or physical description with the name Harry Potter. I then asked for information regarding the Dursley family, and the magical government had nothing. I can only assume that young Harry left the company of the Dursleys long before he preformed any accidental magic, which leads to the conclusion that he left before he turned six years old, in accordance to the statistics for accidental magic in children." Dumbledore's voice was matter of fact, and to the point, he relayed the information in one breath, before sighing.

"I have considered every possible angle, and yet I can come to no conclusion other than this; Harry Potter has disappeared."

The Scottish woman's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed across her chest and her tone was icy. "What?" she hissed, her steely eyes glinting dangerously "After I begged you not to place the boy with that family, and after you assured me that he would be fine; he disappears!" she snapped at the elder man.

"Minerva, there is nothing that can be done. We must be vigilant, any whisper, any sign of young Harry must be reported to me." Albus fixed his fellow professor with a stern look "He must return."

Miss Hermione Granger was an odd sort of girl. She was clever enough, if intelligence consisted off memorisation, and was pretty enough if you looked past her aloof and bossy manner as well as her buckteeth and bushy hair. Simply put, Hermione Granger was the very last person in the world that could possibly be considered as possessing any sort of special power, as there was simply nothing truly neither magical nor mystical about her.

And yet, she had received a very strange letter that left the Granger family all out of sorts. Eventually, of course, the letter was explained, and Hermione was ever so surprised! She had always know there must have been something special about her, after all weren't special people always the victims of jealousy? Weren't those who are special always bullied for events out of their control? Didn't all special people long for friendship? So what if she had been lonely, sad and upset, she now had something to look forward to! A life without prejudice, for surely all of those special –no- _magical_ people could never put up with such nonsense! After all, they must be just like her!

Hermione was so thrilled with the concept of acceptance, she never noticed all of the condemning glances she and her parents received whilst shopping with professor McGonagall.

Mr. Ronald Billus Weasley was unremarkable in every sense of the word, and rarely possessed anything of his own that had not first been possessed by at least three of his brothers. He was the youngest boy and second youngest child, and lived by the notion that effort was pointless since he would never achieve anything noteworthy anyway, after all his brothers had already done everything.

However, the young Weasley was eleven years old, and would be going to Hogwarts, along with Harry Potter! They were the same age, and both had parents that had fought on the same side in the war against you-know-who, therefore in Ron's opinion they would both be in Gryffindor, and most likely be friends. If anything he would be known as the boy-who-lived's friend. And for now, that was enough for Ronald.

The scent off freshly cut grass, mixed with the dew of the early morning. Greyscale skies with dark shades of cloud a foreboding sense of an impending storm along with the pressure associated with such weather that always leads to a migraine. The exhalation of air so softly in a single breath, the warm air dramatically turning a slivery white as it rapidly cools. Reds and ochre's, yellows and oranges like the foundations of a newly built road, litter the soft ground, still damp from rain.

Beyond the orchard of shedding trees, and vivaciously green grounds, beyond the icy waters of a flowing river, past hedgerows, wildflowers and dying leaves, lay a truly phenomenal sight to behold.

Endless white and grey a structure that seemed so out of place and out of time, the castle that stood triumphal against the trials of age and still completely intact. From its turrets flew a magnificent blue banner with gold embroidery, from the front gatehouse; a banner in the same design. The very sight of the castle itself was enough to inspire awe and pride, its aesthetic nature alone, the way that the structure was reflected in the water surrounding it only increased its perceived size, and brilliance.

Remy had never seen such a sight in his life. The very air seemed to hum and despite the weather the youngest Lebeau would have happily declared that nothing else could ever compare to that first glance upon the castle of Beauxbatons.

The trip to Beauxbatons for the students was perhaps a little anti-climatic in comparison to the way that Hogwarts students arrived, instead of arriving by train and then travelling by boat or carriage, Beauxbatons students were simply sent a portkey with their letters, and after all of the introductions and discussions with the faculty had been completed, along with the necessary paperwork, the student would activate the portkey by the required word, on the date detailed in the letter.

At such a stage in his life as this, where thing had changed so dramatically, Remy couldn't help but reminisce over his life. Meeting the gargantuan boy and the horse faced giraffe had ripped memories to the very forefront of his mind, memories the young thief did not even know he had possessed, if anything his admiration and gratitude towards Jean-Luc and the rest of his family had grown further, they had saved him from a life of misery, and looking back, he couldn't imagine a life without the guild, and his family.

Perhaps one of his earliest memories after he had been adopted, was nothing of extreme significance. But rather, it was one of the fondest memories he possessed.

He had been in the great mansion only a few days, and despite the comforting presence of his best friend and new father, Remy was still nervous. What if the elder boy who was to be his brother was just like Dudley? What if this new life was worse than before? He was terrified of the concept, and often hid underneath his bedcovers, softly sniffling until he had cried himself into a dreamless sleep. That was how Henri found him for the first time.

It was late, perhaps around one in the morning, and Remy was still crying, his orange nightlight visible even through the duvet was his only comfort. The door creaked as it opened, and Remy could hear the soft pad of bare feet upon the thick carpet.

"_Little brother..."_ the calming voice of Henri Lebeau had called out; a hand rested on the bed, and gently pulled back the covers, revealing the tear tracked eyes of Remy Lebeau. Without a word or warning, the elder boy lifted his new brother into his arms and held him as he cried, solidifying forever the unbreakable bond of a brother. Despite his affection and friendship with Emil, the acceptance of an older brother was the greatest comfort Remy could receive.

Henri had always been there for Remy, and although he had not always appreciated or even acknowledged the fact, he truly admired his brother. It was Henri who had inspired Remy to become a Master Thief, through his own ambition, and Remy simply followed suit. Remy smiled, he had never really realised just how close he was to his older brother, it was strange, Henri was a constant in his life, always looking out for him and more often than not teasing him senseless, but it was easy to forget that Henri was incredibly important, and always inspired him to do the very best he could in any situation.

Letting out a breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding, Remy smiled determinedly and made his way towards the grand entrance of the Beauxbatons castle, ready to start his first year at an academy of magic.

Ronald Weasley and Hermione granger stood in line, anxiously waiting for their names to be called, so that they could be sorted into the houses they would remain in for the next seven years at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, both blissfully unaware that the lie of students was missing a very important young boy, one they would not meet for quite some time.

_AN- I'm very sorry about the lateness of the chapter and also the length, but I've been really busy at college. I hope no one's disappointed, but for now I will be relying on imagination for the French, simply for convenience, as it will obviously be the language spoken at Beauxbatons, so it will be indicated by italic underlined. I just wanted to add a thank you for the description of New Orleans, it was interesting to find out about from someone who had been there, but for my story to work I will have to continue using the made up city that I have been. It was also pointed out that I hadn't really developed the relationship between Henri and Remy, using Emil instead, I honestly hadn't noticed, and I hope that the little scene I added will do it justice. I hope you keep reading and please review. _


	14. Henriette

Henri Lebeau sighed as he slouched on the window seat in his room. For years his little brother had been by his side, and although they were far apart in age, he cared deeply for the young boy. He could remember Remy coming home from school after fighting some kid who mocked him, only to be beat up by the kid's older brother. He would clean the cuts and slap band-aids on his knees, and make some cheesy joke to make Remy smile before making sure that Remy was occupied playing with Emil while he kicked the older kids' asses and warning them to stay away from his little brother.

In all the time that Remy had lived in the guild main house and had been adopted into the family, he had never been away from home for more than a few days, and always well within driving distance in case Henri or Jean-Luc had to go pick him up. Now he was in France. A whole other country! And to top it all he was at a boarding school! How was Henri supposed to take care of his brother if he couldn't watch over him, as he had been doing since the boy had first entered their home? He had been gone for around three weeks and Henri was already turning into a sap.

Henri sighed and lay his head against the cool glass of the window, staring down into the gardens. Remus and his father were there talking. They'd been doing that a lot lately, rushing around and filling in forms exchanging money like it was going out of fashion. Just what were they doing that was more important than sending letters to their son and godson? The stack of letters that Remy had sent sat beside him, all of which mentioned that letters from Jean-Luc and Remus were few and far between. He smiled at his brother's scribbled handwriting before beginning his response to the latest letter from Remy.

When the name 'Harry Potter' had had been read from the list in the transfiguration professor's hand an excited chatter had spread through the hall. When the call was left unanswered and it became evident that Harry Potter was missing from the line up chaos ensued. Chatter turned to gossip and speculation and the sorting was almost unable to be continued. A quick spell and a loud call for silence from the headmaster staunched further noise.

The sorting ended without further ado, but there was a notable sense of unease throughout the populous, each wondering about the fate of the young boy who had defeated Voldemort.

The weeks that followed were no better, the chatter hadn't died down in the slightest and what was worse was that the papers had caught wind of the situation as well. The entire of magical Britain was on red alert, searching for Harry Potter.

Hermione Granger, though rather bright, was a girl with her head perpetually stuck in a book. It was a rare sight for the young Gryffindor to be seen talking to anyone other than gushing as she squeaked out the answers to the teachers questions during class.

Her voyage into the unknown world of witchcraft was one that was full of disappointment. Hermione came from a small town, went to a very small school and was surrounded by people with very low intelligence. Needless to say for a young child this had made her rather excessively proud. She had assumed that because she had been the very best in her year then she would be the very best at magic too, after all despite all this 'secret world' nonsense she had assumed that the wizarding world was just like an exclusive club. She hadn't expected to be behind anyone else.

Her pride wouldn't let her not have the attention from teachers she was used too, and despite her awareness that her peers would, as always, dislike her for her brilliance she had assumed she would be placated by the teachers and told how special she was.

Only she wasn't. Hermione would obsessively read her books over and over but all that would do was to enable her to recite a textbook. It didn't give her any superior skill or understanding of the subject. For the first time in her life, young Hermione Jean Granger was completely and utterly average and she hated it.

Being the youngest of six boys, Ronald Weasley rarely had something to call his own. His younger sister, being the only girl received all of her belongings and clothes, though sometimes through second hand shops, that were hers first and she rarely, if ever, had to deal with the hand-me-downs of her elder brothers.

Ron had no such luck. He had an old wand, an old trunk, and an old set of books, scales, cauldron and even robes. He hated being invisible, so he did everything he could to stand out; he was loud mouthed, brash, prejudiced and lazy, after all being known for your bad qualities was better than not being known at all, right?

If there was one thing that annoyed Ronald Weasley above anything else, it was being outshone. Hermione Granger was smart, dedicated, and had all the attention from the professors. Ron had tried his best to perform the spells, but it soon proved difficult and his inherent laziness won out in the end and he was content to make loud and obnoxious comments hoping for a few laughs like Fred and George always seemed to receive, instead he had lost some house points and received a scolding.

It took every ounce of his restraint to ignore the muggleborn girl, but as soon as she started lecturing him on his half-hazard attempt at levitating a feather and his poor pronunciation, he had lost his temper. He told as many people as he could what a menace she was, what a nightmare. He mocked her hair, her teeth and her bossy tone. He exaggerated, imitated and sniped. It wasn't until later that he realised she had been behind him and had heard every word he had said, and had spent the whole day crying.

Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, unlike its British counterpart did not believe in the segregation of students based on character traits, and because of the sheer size of the facility as well as several generous alumni donations, there were separate dormitories from the school. The boy's dormitory was on a completely separate part of the campus to the girls, the boys on the left and the girls on the right. They were then further separated by floor; there were seven floors, one for each year. Each floor had enough rooms so that the students had only one roommate. Remy

Remy Lebeau had been a student of Beauxbatons for almost three weeks, but it still seemed like a dream. Instead of disgusted sneers at his eyes he had received welcoming smiles. He studied almost religiously, in between writing letters to his father, brother and cousins, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he enjoyed learning magic. The block that the professor had put in his mind allowed his to focus his magic without getting his mutation mixed up and blowing something to pieces.

However, there was one defining factor of Remy's life at the French school of magic that he had deliberately left out; his utterly humiliating and unrequited infatuation with the beautiful Henriette La Roux. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, despite her being a little more than three years older than him, she had long glossy hair that was always pulled back in expensive looking barrettes, and had cold grey eyes that seemed to promise death to anyone who crossed her one moment and then her meticulously made up face would twist into a breathtaking smile. He was smitten.

Remy dopily munched on his breakfast cereal as he gazed at the source of his infatuation from across the year-separated breakfast tables, he choked on a particularly insubordinate cheerio that somehow decided to lodge itself in his throat. He gratefully smiled as he felt a hand slap his back.

"You okay there Remy?" the amused voice of Christian Allore broke him from his infatuated reverie

"Oui." Remy smiled sheepishly "jus' got distracted dats all."

Christian grinned devilishly "oh really? I hadn't noticed, I mean you've only been staring at the Mademoiselle La Roux for weeks now with that same dopey grin on your face, you should try harder to make your infatuation more obvious."

"Shut up, _chrissy!"_ Remy glared before taking a gulp of his coffee.

Christian grimaced "Not only did you have to use that dreadful name but you gulp that vile liquid like a fish, if it had sugar or even milk I could understand..." he shuddered as Remy wafted the black coffee under his nose.

"Come now, Christian." The cheerful tone of the boy next to him called "we all know about your obsession with pudding, leave Remy to his poison drink that he likes to call coffee." the boys dark eyes twinkled happily at the two before whinging as both Christian and Remy flicked bits of cereal at him, most of which became tangled in his dishwater blonde hair.

"Have you finished the assignment for Monsieur Harcourt yet?" the boy asked curiously, as if he hadn't just been pelted with breakfast cereal. "I can't quite get my head around the charm."

Remy nodded his mouth too full of cereal and coffee to answer properly. Sifting around in his bag for a few moments, he produced a notebook and tore out the essay, before handing it to his friend to read over.

Gabriel Chevalier, Christian Allore and Remy Lebeau had become fast friends since the start of term. The friendship blossomed from the three of them somehow managing to set loose a herd of pegassi and spend the better part of an hour running from them before the headmistress managed to round them back into their paddock. The three boys had looked at each other briefly before collapsing in fits of laughter.

From across the grand dining hall, Henriette La Roux watched amusedly as two of her own classmates desperately tried to win her attention, it was capital! Two idiotic boys declaring love for her when in all actuality she could scarcely remember their names. She idly stirred her tea with one hand and examined her polished nails with the other enjoying the scene of the two boys verbally sparring.

"It seems as if you have a new admirer, Henriette" a hushed voice from her left chuckled "such a little one too." Henriette gazed up at the girl to her left, there was nothing truly remarkable about her appearance other than her jewellery; she had heard that the necklace she wore was an heirloom of some sort.

Dismissing her irrelevant thoughts, Henriette, with a tone seeped in boredom replied the Morel heiress' observation, her eyes leaving her teacup for only a moment to glance and the boy, who was seemingly having an argument with his friend.

"Yes, the Lebeau boy. Despite being supposedly muggleborn I hear good things about his performance in class, not to mention the name Lebeau is becoming quite well known in certain circles within the magical world."

Marcelle Morel sneered in the boy's direction "Some upstart mafia gang, father talks about them. Apparently they steal things professionally. Mother says that the Lebeau family are made up of mudbloods, squibs and magical rejects."

Henriette's spoon stopped twirling and her vicious gaze turned to Marcelle. "Keep your opinions to yourself, and do not utter such dirty language in my presence. You are a lady of Beauxbatons academy not some brutish troll from Durmstrang, have at least a sense of decorum."

Marcelle's eyes widened comically "I- I apologise, Henriette."

Henriette smiled genially any trace of her cruelty vanished "Good. I'm sure if you keep a hold on your tongue and show restraint we can continue to get along splendidly."

Henriette spared one more glance at the boy, smiling as she decided that he might prove to be amusing.

_AN- sorry for the lack of updates and the short chapter but I had to find where I was going with this again. Just out of curiosity, if Remy had been sent to Hogwarts what house would he be in?_


End file.
